Mistakes
by Laburnum Steelfang
Summary: Kinkmeme deanon. Japan didn't know how his actions would affect his brothers. Dragon shows him. Warnings for dark content including discussion of rape and severe injuries, child abuse, drug use, mental illness, and references to real historical atrocities.
1. Chapter 1

**Kinkmeme de-anon, prompt was for revenge being attempted on the wrong person. This prompt is very relevant to my interests ;) This was my immediate idea, as a prequel to my other fic "Yi Ya Huan Ya" and sequel to a request I made myself involving the dragon nursing China back to health. There really needs to be more fic involving the dragon. I'll admit I'm not really using his dub dialect as it's hard to a) write and b) take seriously in circumstances this dark. "Ta ma de" = Chinese cursing (thank you, _Firefly_). "Ryu-sama" = Japanese for "dragon" with the suffix for addressing a superior.**

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The January breeze bit into Japan's face, and he tugged his scarf higher, humming to himself as he walked. He needed to get away from talk of strategy for a while, and the cliffside was a perfect place for a quiet walk. His hiking staff pushed the long grass out of the way as he wandered closer to the brink, not fearing a fall. He knew his own coastline as well as the back of his hand, literally, and knew the location of every possibly treacherous point well enough to be safe.

As he inhaled the sweet cold of the sea breeze, he realised he wasn't alone. He turned to see an old man, tall and thin with eyebrows rivalling England's and a moustache which brushed his shoulders, also looking out to sea. The man's hair was white and his back bent, but he carried no walking stick; Japan wondered how he'd made it up the cliffside path without one. The man's coat was thin, but he didn't seem to feel the cold. Japan didn't recognise him. He tried to access his inbuilt memories of all his people; nothing. Must be a foreigner.

He decided to make conversation. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Indeed," said the man, in a raspy and eerily familiar voice. The accent was distinctly Chinese. Oh. Well, this was awkward. Japan wasn't sure he wanted to talk to someone from the country with which he was at war. He himself had nothing in particular against China's people - much as he wanted the land and resources, he didn't hate the people as so many of his own humans did - but conversing with them may not be safe. He wondered what the man was even doing in Japan.

A note of bitterness entered the strange man's voice. "This land is beautiful. Such a shame it hides such a twisted core. _Honda Kiku."_

"What?" Japan stared. "How do you know my name? Who the hell are you?"

The old man's drooping moustache seemed to be taking on an odd green tint, and his nails were extending. Japan backed away, raising his staff, and the man's eyes suddenly blazed red.

"Who are you?" Japan demanded again, his heel resting on the very brink of the cliff. He felt a few tiny pebbles give way beneath his foot, and shifted his weight, ready to move forwards in an attack or an escape.

There was a blast of heat and smoke, and hot steel-sharp claws closed around Japan's throat. His cry of pain was cut off with his breath, and he dropped the staff as his feet left the ground and he was spun around in the air and dangled over the edge of the cliff.

"I know the secrets of bringing true death to nations, you treacherous scum," came a hiss in his ear. "The only reason I won't is because then I can't kill you again!"

Japan struggled to see what was holding him, unable to turn his head because of the iron grip. Through the rising tears, he saw a green scaled snout out of the corner of his eye. With a start, he recognised his attacker.

"Dragon? What? You can't- ah!" The claws dug harder into Japan's neck, drawing blood, and the dragon leaned further out over the cliff. The sea crashed against the rocks below.

"Don't give me that! China told me what you did! I dug him out of the ruins, I _saw_ what you did to him - your own brother! Wasn't it enough to cut his heart out?"

"What?" Japan choked, hands scrabbling frantically at the dragon's claws. "I haven't left Honshu for the past three months! My boss wanted me to stay in easy reach! What are you talking about?"

The dragon's glare softened, turning to surprise, and his grip loosened enough to prevent Japan choking to death. "What?"

Japan clutched his captor's claws tighter, hoping not to fall. "I've been here! Of course I've been working on the war effort, and I know his capital fell, but I wasn't there! I didn't think China would be that angry! We _are_ at war, remember? It's not like he hasn't lost cities before! It happens! Humans breed fast, it'll be back to normal in a decade or two!"

"You really don't know?" The dragon pulled Japan back onto safe ground and let go of him, backing away and staring into his face, apparently attempting to determine whether he was lying.

The expression on the dragon's face set a seed of concern blooming in Japan's mind. "What happened to China? Was he hurt? Killed? Has he come back yet?" he asked, the pitch of his voice rising with each question. "I know we're at war, but he's still my brother. I don't iwant/i him to be hurt."

Insofar as a dragon could look horrified, he did. "... _Ta ma de._ You _don't_ know," he murmured.

Japan's eyes narrowed. _"Ryu-sama,_ what has happened to my brother?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Tip for my readers; do NOT research the Nanking Massacre if you plan on sleeping any time soon. Also, while Japan's human leaders are still being jackasses about it even now (though a fair number of people there do know about it and think Japan should apologise for it), I have difficulty picturing the non-dark!version of Kiku being that bad, hence this fic. I don't want to describe the massacre in too much detail for fear of coming across as fetishising it, but what happened to China personally is going to be described in some detail, so be warned. The reference to "Vietnam's girls beating China up" is about the Trung Rebellion, which was also extremely violent but significantly more fun to research - I do recommend you look that one up.**

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"He left the city on his humans' orders before it fell. He was staying with me when it happened. The first I knew was when he curled up in pain and blood soaked through his shirt. He told me Nanking was burning and his people needed him. I told him to stay here where it was safe, but he refused. He said he'd left it too long already and he shouldn't have left at all, and the next I knew was when I sensed that he needed help."

Japan's face remained still as he looked at the bed in which his brother's body lay, looking as tiny and pale as a broken porcelain doll, but his hands trembled, and he heard Dragon's words as if from far away.

"He was there for a week, with little food and water and less sleep, and kept going with wounds most nations couldn't withstand. He fought on alone, picking off your men here and there and helping as many of his people escape as he could, until he almost dropped. One mistake, that was all it took. He told me all he did was try to snatch some time to fix his bandages and reload his gun. He shouldn't have done it in that order. I found him in a burned-out house with six bullets and a bayonet in him. There was blood in his mouth and nails which wasn't his. He fought to the end."

Japan knelt beside the bed, looking at China's battered face. China was curled awkwardly on his side, propped up on pillows in order to keep him lying on as few of his injuries as possible. He was naked under the blanket, except for bandages. A human would have died, and for a nation he was healing abnormally slowly. His chest wound was still open, the bandages red and damp.

Japan rested a hand on China's forehead, feeling sticky heat. "He's feverish."

"No surprise, he has picked up about three different infections. I tried to keep his wounds clean, but with so many this severe ..." Dragon brushed China's hair out of his face. "I've been looking after him. I can't trust a human with him. I don't think I should go into detail, he can tell you more if he wants to when he wakes up. He's been sleeping a lot." Dragon paused, and added "He shouts your name in his sleep. That's why I went for you. I thought he'd seen you there."

At this, Japan felt his composure break. He rested his head on his arms and let the tears drip between his hands, onto his brother's bed. He felt Dragon's claw rest gently on his back.

"I-I want to apologise," Dragon said. "Dragons aren't even supposed to do revenge, really. I know the ones at your place aren't the same, but over here we're supposed to be agents of goodness and cosmic wisdom and all that. Load of bullshit, really, but we are usually pretty peaceful. We're sort of meant to leave violence to humans - ah, and humanoids. But I saw what happened, and ... I've worked with your brother for so long, and I couldn't love him more if I'd hatched him myself. I was angry. I didn't think."

"I understand," Japan said dully. "I think I'd have done the same."

China's eyes fluttered open. He rolled onto his back, gasping as he lay on his wounds, and gazed up at Dragon, unfocused. "Mm? Hi, boss."

"Hey, kid. Time to change your bandages, I think."

China's fingers brushed his bandages, coming away sticky. "Where'd all this blood come from? Can't be mine," he said with a delirious giggle. "I never lose. Don't listen to Vietnam, says her girls beat me up but she's a dirty liar. We don't like liars, do we? Or backstabbing little brothers." His pupils looked like pinpricks.

Japan looked at Dragon. "What have you been giving him?"

Dragon looked guilty. "Look, it was put him back on the opium or leave him in pain. He broke the habit once, he can do it again later - right now he needs it."

Japan would have responded, but China turned his head and saw him, and jerked away with a yell. "No, not you! Get him out, get him away from me!"

"Whoa, easy now, easy," Dragon whispered, grabbing China's arms to stop him rolling off the bed. "It's okay."

"No it's not," China sobbed. "Get him out. Please."

Japan stood, briskly rubbing a hand across his eyes. "I should be leaving anyway. Uh, tell me if- I mean _when_ he starts to recover? I can make my own way back, I should leave you to watch him."

Dragon nodded, and Japan turned to leave with his brother's cry following him.

"Why weren't you there, brother? Why weren't you there to stop them?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings for discussion of violence, portrayal of nations as not entirely morally the same as humans, some gross medical stuff, and serious psychological fucked-up-ness. While I don't think for a minute that China's a weak person and don't want to ukefy him, I think he would be pretty damn broken by something like this, because until this point he had little reason to think he wasn't effectively invincible, at least to human opponents. I'll also warn in advance that the next chapter's going to be pretty brutal; I decided it was okay to have China describe what happened, and it was not fun. "Speaking bitterness" was a real thing, and while it was indeed used to persuade the people all their problems were caused by the old regime, talking about bad things in one's past can indeed help (doesn't work in every case and I'm not a therapist so don't rely on me for info, though).**

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Nations who had not had their turn to murder while they smiled were few and far between. Japan had tasted mortal blood enough times, and seen China do the same. All of them had; he'd seen the Asians firsthand and heard the stories from Europe, of Spain's conquest of the South American nations and England's and France's in the North, of Prussia born to a crusading order and on the battlefield almost from the start. Even sweet Korea had danced in his enemies' entrails and thought nothing of it. China had one of the longest and bloodiest histories of all the nations, had killed and been killed in return and always got back up and never borne a grudge, but Japan had never seen him in this state. Huddled in Dragon's coils atop the pillow-laden bed, he looked small and broken, even now his wounds were healing. Much too slowly; even lethal wounds on a nation would usually close in hours at most, and he was still bandaged six weeks after Japan had first seen him. He was thin and ill-looking, and gnawing nervously on the stem of an opium pipe for the first time in decades. He was wearing a thin robe, pulled tightly around himself as if it could somehow protect him. Japan wasn't sure what had been done to him this time, but it had been more than a simple death. Not for the first time, but definitely for the first time it had felt worse than simple exasperation, Japan felt like the older brother.

Dragon's home was near the top of a mountain, far away from potential human intruders. A safe place for China to recover.

Looking at his hands, Japan spoke. "I'm sorry, China. I never wanted this to happen to you."

"So it's okay if it happens to my people?" said China bitterly, not looking at him.

Japan squirmed and mumbled "That's not what I meant."

"Yes it was, don't lie to your big brother," said China, waving with the pipe and leaving a wobbling trail of smoke. "Heh, don't worry. Mine would have done the same to yours, if they had the chance, and I wouldn't have cared either. Comes with the job, yeah?" He stared at the ceiling. "Never hurt this much before."

"Are you really sure you're not upset with me? This happened because I declared war. I'm willing to take any punishment you want to aim at me. It's only fair."

"No, really, it's okay. I know you didn't want this. I know you're a backstabbing little bastard, but I don't think you'd really want to torture your own brothers. My humans would probably have done the same to you, too. Not that I'd have wanted them to, I swear."

"Yes, but mine are the ones that actually _did_it," Japan pointed out.

"Still. You going to try to call the war off now?"

"Of course not!" Japan said. "People will wonder why, and I can't explain this." Under normal circumstances, most mortals weren't even technically supposed to know the personifications existed. If he tried to explain this to the humans who did have clearance, the news would probably get out; the public would wonder what was happening, and humans couldn't stay quiet about something this big to save their lives. Spreading the information that not only did they exist, they could be hurt ... well, Japan didn't want to think about the potential problems there.

"Hm, suppose so," China said, shrugging and wincing as the motion pulled on a wound. Dragon nuzzled him soothingly. "I don't really want you spreading this around anyway. It's embarrassing." From his tone, Japan understood that "embarrassing" wasn't really the right word. _Humiliating. Shameful. Dishonourable._

"Besides ..." Japan added, the opium haze in the room making him bolder, "When I win, I can protect you."

"Ha! I'm so going to kick your ass once I'm up." China poked Japan's nose with the tip of his pipe, as if Japan was a troublemaking child again, and laughed until he choked up smoke.

"Are you sure you should still be smoking that?"

"Yes," China said firmly. He stretched, yawned, and tapped the pipe out. "Though right now I think I should sleep."

Japan took this as his cue to get up and leave.

"You can stay here," Dragon called after him. "There's no spare room, but I have futons and blankets back from when the kids used to visit."

Japan flinched, remembering when he had been one of China's "kids"; he and Korea had spent many a happy afternoon running around in the mountain air, sometimes climbing on Dragon's back, perfectly and innocently happy. Well, he should stay. China might need him.

Later that night, Japan was woken by a muffled cry from China. He jumped up and ran to his brother's side, finding Dragon trying to calm the struggling nation.

"Stop ... please don't ... leave her alone ..." China whimpered, eyes screwed shut. As Japan touched China's arm in an attempt to wake him, his eyes shot open and he screamed. _"No, get out of me, get it out!"_

Finally, Dragon and Japan managed to wake him. He stared at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face, gasping for breath until he retched. Japan managed to get a basin under China's chin just in time. What he brought up was mostly watery bile; his stomach was empty. Without looking at his two carers, China reached automatically for the pipe and matches on the bedside table and lit up.

"Thanks," he mumbled through the smoke, and sighed.

"Bad dreams?" Japan asked. China scowled and nodded. "Sorry. Stupid question." He reached out a hand. China let their fingertips brush, not comfortable with further contact. "... Do you want to tell me what happened? I don't know if you want to talk about it, but I'll listen if you do."

"Mm. Maybe I should," China mused.

"You don't have to tell us anything," Dragon said reassuringly.

"No, it's okay. You already know everything, and I think Japan needs to. And he's right, I'll feel better if I talk about it." China stared at the pipe in his hand. "New human bosses came up with this thing, 'speaking bitterness'. Just talk and talk and talk until it stops feeling so important. Like piercing a boil. I think they're actually just using it to make everyone persuade themselves our old bosses were jerks, but I think it could work the way they say it does. It's worth a try, anyway."

He took a deep breath from his pipe, then another breath of air, closed his eyes, and started to talk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warnings for secondhand account of pretty brutal torture and rape, based loosely on real events (but if you've read the fic so far you knew that). China didn't go down easy, so also warning for injuries to other characters who, to be honest, thoroughly deserve worse. Should also warn that I'm portraying the nations as not having entirely normal human views of the aforementioned; they've seen too much violence to particularly care about it, they don't resent each other for war crimes because they know their own humans have done bad things as well, as Japan said in the first chapter they have enough humans to not usually mind about losing a few, and it's almost impossible for humans to subdue a nation so they haven't usually been on the receiving end and can usually get up within hours when they are killed so they don't care. The Nanking safe zone was in fact set up by a German even though they were supposed to be on Japan's side - Google has further details.**

**Realised after I posted the last chapter that I mixed up the timeline - "speaking bitterness" didn't come out for a while after this. Oh well, will go back and rewrite later.**

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"Well, you know how it started, even if you weren't there. You've seen cities fall. Human bosses made me come here, said they wanted me safe. It's funny, but even after all this I still don't regret going back. Even one of my people's lives saved would be enough to make it ... well, 'worth it' probably isn't the right term, but you know what I mean."

Japan nodded.

"I got a pretty decent number of yours. They'll probably be reported 'missing' - nobody on either side will believe one soldier took out so many." China smirked, and Japan smiled weakly. Even from the opposing side, he had to admire his brother's skill. "I brought a lot of my people to the safe zone. Not nearly enough, but some. You might want to talk to Germany about the safe zone, one of his men set it up. I guess I owe him one. Had to put some others out of their misery, but I don't want to think about that. Anyway, I was weak from blood loss and I wasn't high enough on battle rage to kill the pain. I slept a few times, and just fainted a few more. Forgot to eat or drink. I should have tried to keep my facial hair growing, maybe then I'd just have been shot."

Nations' bodies, lasting milennia and regenerating most direct damage, run on what could loosely be termed magic. Food and sleep are more habit than actual need, and their hair and nails only grow if they remember that they should.

"I stopped in an empty house to redo my bandages. Got found. Even in the state I was, I could have taken any two mortals. Pity there were five. Tried to shoot, forgot my gun was empty. One of them got my gun hand between the wall and his rifle butt, smashed the bones. I told them they could do what they wanted with me if they stopped hurting my daughters. I don't think any of them understood Chinese."

By "daughters", of course, he meant the women of the city. A nation's relationship with their humans is an odd thing, with no entirely accurate human analogue, but this term was close enough.

"My Japanese is a bit rusty, but I picked up what they were saying. Said I was the prettiest they'd found even if I was wearing my brother's uniform, asked if he'd run off and left me there. Huh, they had no idea."

Japan shifted uncomfortably.

"I punched one of them, broke his nose, and he slammed my other wrist against the doorframe until it broke too. He got his tongue in my mouth. I think I bit it out. Hope I did. I definitely hurt him, because they got me in the face next. Cracked my jaw and knocked out my front teeth. Said I was tough for a girl. I managed to speak, told him I speak Japanese and that I'm not a girl. They just laughed. I tried to kick, but they caught my foot and I ended up on my back. They stomped on my leg till one of the bones broke, and pulled my other leg up and shoved a knife between my ankle bones into the wall. Pissed myself. Couldn't help it. My vision was fading in and out. Someone else was screaming outside, I begged to be allowed to help them, as if I could have done anything."

He stayed quiet for a long time, until Japan wondered if he'd fallen asleep and reached to put the pipe out before it caused a fire. China opened his eyes, swatted Japan's hand away, and resumed talking, staring dully into the distance.

"One of them knelt over me and said that since I understood him he might as well warn me that if I looked away he'd cut my eyelids off. Then he cut my pants open. I thought they'd been mocking me when they called me a girl, but they actually did seem surprised. Must have been the chest binding fooled them. They laughed again. One of them said something about 'looks close enough'. And ... and ..." The words caught in China's throat. "Yeah."

Japan wasn't an innocent in this area by any means. He hadn't committed rape himself, but not because of any strong feelings on its morality so much as he'd never really felt like it. He simply didn't usually _need_ to make a show of power over his enemies, and if he did, there were cleaner ways. He'd always seen it in an almost abstract way, as just something humans did. It may not particularly appeal to him, but then his people did plenty of things which baffled him, like not being able to walk directly between islands. He had, however, knowingly handed prisoners over to those who would, and watched with only mild disgust on occasion, thinking no more of it than a mortal would think of seeing dogs mate. China had done the same. Several nations had. It was just another mortal thing to them. Now, looking at the mess it had left of his brother, guilt gnawed at his gut so hard he was sure he'd vomit.

"It was weird, really. I didn't think it should be this bad. And next to the broken bones it didn't exactly hurt all that much. But ... I just wanted to die. And I didn't care if I came back or not."

All three were quiet for a long time, all watching the smoke from China's pipe and Dragon's breath swirl about the ceiling. Japan broke the silence. "What happened after that?"

"They got suspicious because I hadn't died yet. My bandages were soaking through. They pulled them open, and they saw how deep the cut was. All I remember then is a lot of shouting about demons, and that was when they shot me. I think I felt one digging around in my wound before I blacked out. Might have been trying to take my heart as a prize, I don't know. When I woke up, Dragon had brought me back to his place. Can't face my humans yet. Nobody's going to come looking here."

Japan drew a knife from its hiding place inside his clothes and looked at the blade, trying to look his reflection in the eye. When he spoke again, his voice was harsh and flat.

"They have signed their death warrants."

China and Dragon looked at him, shocked. It was an incredibly difficult thing for a nation to intentionally bring harm to their own people, and it was almost unheard of for them to try.

"I can do nothing for your people, that's up to them. We know the rules. We're at war, I shouldn't even really be talking to you now. But I swear to you, brother, the ones who touched you personally will _beg_ for as much mercy as they showed you. Shall I bring you their corpses? Or shall I drag them here in chains? However long it takes, whichever of us wins this war, whatever our mortals think, I swear I will not let this lie." Japan ran his finger along the knife edge, leaving a thick line of red, and tucked the handle into China's hand. "One day we'll hold blades wet with someone else's blood. Together."

"You'd let your own people die for me? I thought you hated me."

"If it would make this not have happened, I'd bring you my emperor's head on a platter. I don't much _like_ you, but you're still my brother, and you never deserved this."

Dragon smirked. "That's my boys."

Japan gave him a strange look. "I thought dragons didn't do revenge."

"Doesn't mean I have to stop you."

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**Next chapter is _not_ a revenge scene. Stay tuned.**


	5. Chapter 5

Japan's prime minister peered into the office; it wasn't like Japan to still be up and working at midnight, he preferred to go to bed early in order to get an early start. "What's going on?"

Japan was flicking rapidly through a huge stack of files; army personnel records. In his hand he held a sheet of scrawled notes. Sketches, physical descriptions, the names China had heard them call each other; anything that might help him find his targets. A stack of possible perpetrators was growing beside him. He felt ill; the twisted feeling of a parent knowing their child has done something truly unforgivable, and they are the one that led the child to do so. Almost worse was the knowledge that he didn't feel the same concern for the human victims; he'd seen the same thing happen too many times. Though perhaps the fact that he was ashamed of feeling so little meant he was starting to care ... He put the thought aside. That could be dealt with later.

"My brother was there when his capital was taken," Japan said shortly.

The prime minister looked at him oddly. "Well, yes. That was rather expected. You killed him yourself at least once, why are you upset this time?"

"They didn't just kill him. He's ... he's still recovering. Mental distress slows our healing."

The man looked thoughtful. "China's out of action? Hm, perhaps we can use that. Thanks for the information, I'll have to bring it up in the meeting tomorrow," he mused.

Japan looked at him in horror. For once, strategic sense took a backseat to his concern for his family. "Sir, I know this is odd. I know I've never reacted like this before, but this feels worse. China is hurt, and despite everything we're still family. I ... I don't know how to explain it. I feel like I should feel weak for thinking this way, but I feel more ashamed of how I was before."

The prime minister shrugged. "Honestly, that's a more human point of view than most people would like to admit. It's all fun and games until it happens to someone who matters. Look, it's regrettable, but it's part of the job."

Japan slapped the file in his hands onto the table and shouted "Damn it, they took my brother for sport in his own home and strewed his guts halfway across the city! we might be at war, but he's _my brother!_ And ... and I did this to him. I got him hurt." Japan choked and sat back down, resting his head on his hands. "I got my own brother raped. Hell, if this happened to him, what's happening to Korea? He told me he thought something bad was happening to his people and I told him it was probably just a cramp, and what happened to him while he was being dragged back here all those times he ran away? I thought I could trust my people with him, he might be a thousand years old but he's still hardly more than a child ... Fuck, I've been so _stupid."_ Tears dripped onto the paperwork. "Building an empire is not worth this. I want to stop."

"Too late, I'm afraid. I'm sorry for your brother, but he knows as well as we do it comes with the job." The man touched the paper in Japan's hand. "You never did answer my question. What is it you're doing? You've been in here all day and half the night, you're making yourself ill."

Japan pulled the paper away. "You want to know what I'm doing? This is the description my brother gave me of the ones who fucked him!" he shouted, and shook the paper threateningly as if it were a weapon. "I'm going to find whoever it was, and I'll make them wish they died in his place! You can handle the stupid war, I'm dealing with this-"

The man snatched the paper from his hands and tore it in half. "Forget about them! We have bigger problems. Just forget about it."

_Forget about them._

A nation must obey their leader at all times, no matter their opinion of the orders. In this case, Japan had wanted nothing more than to forget what he had done.

He blinked, and refocused his eyes. "What were we talking about, sir? I have the strangest feeling it was important. Was I angry about something?"

His boss looked surprised for a moment, then relaxed. "Nothing, Japan. Nothing at all. You must have fallen asleep."

Japan looked at the stacks of files. "What's all this doing here?"

"You said something about checking the files were in order."

"Did I? I must have been feeling terribly overconfident, this could take years ..."

"Well, I think it's time you went to bed. This can be sorted out in the morning."

"Yes. Good idea." Japan clutched his head and wobbled unsteadily out.

The prime minister tucked the torn paper into his pocket as he turned off the light.

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**So. Yeah. Government censorship really fucking sucks, mmkay? Not meaning to demonise Japan's government or people as a whole here, but they did have a pretty big problem with censorship of history, which is kind of fading a bit with the spread of the internet. To anyone reading this, don't let people tell you that acknowledging what your ancestors did wrong might diminish your national pride - after all, your country also produced awesome people like you, yeah?**


	6. Chapter 6

Korea dropped his broom and scurried to answer the phone. "Hi, this is Japan's home, Korea speaking," he said, in poorly-pronounced Japanese. Japan always insisted he speak Japanese. Annoying, but it was part of being annexed, he guessed. Big brother Japan was difficult to live with. He was stiflingly dull, always insisting Korea behave perfectly at all times, grilling him endlessly on Japanese language and history and culture, changing the subject every time Korea tried to bring up his own homeland. He kept giving Korea all sorts of fun new toys, but never so much as smiled at him. Worse, Korea was now confined to the house, not even permitted to enter the garden unsupervised; considering the many attempts he'd made to run away, he'd brought that one on himself, but it still sucked.

"What the hell are you saying? Your Japanese is awful."

"China? What are you doing calling here? You're at war, you're not allowed!" Korea said, dropping into the nations' shared language.

"These are ... exceptional circumstances."

"Oh yeah, Japan said you got hurt. Are you okay?"

"Getting there. How much did he tell you?"

"Only that it was bad, and that I should talk to you about it."

"Yeah, well, it can wait. I don't want to discuss it over the phone."

"Okay." Korea's stomach cramped up again, and he groaned and massaged it. "'Scuse me. I think something really bad's going on back home, but Japan told me it's probably just muscle cramps. Well, that's what he used to tell me, but last week he went quiet and said he'd look into it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's been really weird. When he came home from talking with you he was even more quiet than usual, and I think I heard him crying, but then all of a sudden yesterday he's back to normal. North says he's just trying to trick us. She really hates him."

China sighed. "I've told you before, Korea. Balhae is dead. She's been dead for over a thousand years, she went out when Silla did. You're the only Korea now. I know you miss your family, but I think it's time to move on."

"Oh, I know all that," Korea said brightly. "But she's still around. Good thing too, if she wasn't I think I'd go crazy."

"Okay. Wow, just when I think I have things bad ... Um. Back to the topic, you said Japan was acting weird?"

"Yeah. First he said he'd look into what was going on back home, and he was sort of nice to me - said I could go back to speaking Korean if I wanted. Then yesterday I spoke Korean and he told me to stop, said he never gave me permission." Korea rubbed his back. Japan might have meant well in his own weird pushy way, and it was nothing he couldn't handle, but that caning had really stung.

Before China could reply, Japan looked into the room. "Who's on the phone?"

"It brother China, he want talk you," said Korea, again in bad Japanese, holding out the phone. He intentionally exaggerated his Korean accent. Annoying his brother in little ways got him through the day, and it made North laugh.

Japan scowled at him and took the handset. "Go finish your chores. Once I'm done I think we'll have another grammar lesson. I can't believe you've been here for nearly thirty years, I swear your Japanese is actually getting worse." As Korea scampered out of the room, broom in hand, Japan spoke to China. "What the hell are you doing calling me?"

"What? But you said _you_ would call _me!_ I got worried when you didn't!"

"What? Of course I didn't say that. Why would I call you? I'd just get in trouble."

"You said you'd call me when you'd gone over the files of everyone who was at Nanking."

"Why would you want to know that? Is this some kind of stupid joke? You're trying to get back at me for capturing your city with _prank phone calls?_ Honestly, brother, I thought better of you. That's hardly respectful to your deceased. What are you, four thousand or fourteen?"

On the other end of the line, China gaped at the phone. What was going on? ... Oh._ Oh._ "Have you been speaking to your boss about the attack lately?"

"Of course. It's part of the job, why do you even need to ask me?"

"What exactly did you say to him?"

Japan's mouth opened and closed a few times in complete puzzlement. "... I don't recall my exact words! Just the usual boring strategy talk. If you're trying to spy on me there are more subtle ways, you know. I thought your capital was meant to be your heart, not your brain."

The ceramic stem of the opium pipe snapped in China's hand.

"Hello?"

China hung up, curled up on the bed, and pressed his face into his pillow. He wouldn't cry again, he wouldn't.

Dragon rested a claw on his back. "What happened?"

"Japan listened to his bosses. He doesn't recall us ever talking."

"Shit. Are you going to be okay?"

"Y-yeah. I'll be fine. I know how it works, I can get him to remember. Hell, Vietnam enjoys reminding me of the times she beat me up even though my humans won't admit it, I kind of like the idea of being on the other end of it this time." China laughed humourlessly. "It'll probably have to wait till the war's over and I can be near him unhindered. But it's okay. I'll try not to dwell on it, but I wouldn't forget if it took another four thousand years. I can wait."

Meanwhile, back at Japan's house, Korea quietly slipped out through the back gate and fled, again. He hadn't succeeded yet, but he was eternally optimistic. His cramps started up again, but he didn't let them slow him down. The Korean Spirit bobbed merrily above his head.

"C'mon, North", he whispered. "Let's see if we can make it to Pusan this time."


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow, this fic's getting much longer than I originally had planned. Warnings for drugs, violence, death, abuse, sex, and China being an utter bastard. Conspiracy to commit murder is _not_ an acceptable part of rape recovery in real life, okay? However much the victim deserves it. Also some intense psychological messiness.)**

* * *

By early March China's body had recovered without a mark, with the exception of the jagged bayonet scar leading right into his heart. His mental health was another matter, but he couldn't afford to stay in bed any longer. He went back out into the world, pasting on a smile, apologising to his bosses for spending so much time away.

After a particularly tedious meeting, he slipped away from his human handlers and sneaked into the red light district. Even despite knowing that a nation's own people would almost never try to harm them, and despite the knife hidden in his clothes, he was nervous about being in a crowd again, but he felt he needed it. He'd been in brothels a couple of times before - not often, but four thousand years is a long time to mostly spend single - and thought nothing of it, but this time he saw how tired and scared the girl they'd given him looked, and how young, and knew how much she wanted to be anywhere else.

_(shit no i can hear my daughters screaming leave my girls alone take me instead please)_

He broke down all the girls' locked doors, smashed open the cashbox for them, and instructed them on how best to burn the building down. That was actually far more satisfying, in the end.

The girls' "employer" was still inside when they lit the fire. Witnessing his citizens' deaths always hurt, but this time China ignored it. A nation cannot directly kill their own people (on Bloody Sunday Russia had handed his gun to one of his men, and stood back and watched with childlike glee), but "directly" is such a relative term, and in China's mind none who would do what had been done to him counted as "his" people anymore.

He knew his soldiers would do the exact same thing Japan's had, given the chance, and he couldn't stop them all. If he even tried, someone would ask why. All he'd told his human leaders was that the city's fall had affected him, and since it was his capital they assumed it was something to do with the place's importance, not anything that had happened to his body. He'd rather face the massacre again than try to explain this to anyone but family.

One of the runaway girls offered him a grateful fuck against the wall in an alleyway a safe distance away. She looked sickly and bruised, but he could tell she meant the offer out of something other than obligation; she was high on freedom, and he was pretty. Wasn't like he couldn't handle anything he might catch from her.

_(i don't believe it she really is a boy no way)_

He was as awkward as a virgin, unsure whether he should be rough or gentle, staring intently into her face but paying more attention to the sounds of the normal bustling city around him than to her. _It's okay. Nobody's dying. She agreed to this, she doesn't hate me, she's not afraid. We're both safe._ He wasn't able to finish. Opium did that to him.

_(guess it doesn't like pain since he's not getting any use from it shall we cut it off i hear they like eunuchs here no not yet i got this watch i'll get it see he likes that)_

Finally, he gave up trying, buttoned his clothes back up, not looking at her anymore, and mumbled "I swear I'm not usually that bad. It's been a while."

She looked concerned, but didn't ask for further detail. She fled into the night, and he slumped against the wall, not sure whether he felt better or worse. He pulled a hypodermic from his inside pocket. Worked much faster than the pipe.

_(fuck will someone plug its mouth up already no way didn't you see him bite fine then knock its teeth out cut its tongue out just stop it making that damn noise)_

He ran the needle straight into an old scar; the First Opium War. The Second Opium War was on his other forearm, the scars looking appropriately like trackmarks. Japan's conquest of Manchuria had taken a chunk from his leg, and of course Japan's first betrayal had given him the deep wound in his back. That wasn't counting all the little marks from his centuries of civil wars.  
_  
__(look something's really fucking wrong here he was practically dead when we found him and look what he did to my face no normal person should be this strong he shouldn't still be breathing never mind conscious and look at all those scars what the hell happened to this guy)_

He remembered back in the early 1800s, before England had forever become the "opium bastard" in his eyes. They were friends once. He remembered them reading Shakespeare together, England translating.__

_"O, I have suffered with those that I saw suffer."_

He made his unsteady way back home, bursting into random fits of tears or laughter. A normal human in his state couldn't have made it down the street, never mind out of the city and up a mountain back to Dragon's house. Not being a normal human had its benefits.

Dragon looked up when China slammed open the door, whooping with meaningless laughter. "China? Are you okay?"

"What's it look like?" China shrugged off Dragon's concern and staggered to his bed. He collapsed without undressing, curled up on his side. He couldn't sleep on his back anymore; he felt exposed and helpless in that position, like a butterfly pinned to a cork board, half-expecting something to loom over him and kick his legs apart again.

He slept with his knife in his hand. He trusted it. Knives didn't run out of fucking bullets.


	8. Chapter 8

Before China even opened his eyes, he reached for his needle and solution. His clumsy movements knocked it off the table, and he swore and groped around on the floor until he pricked his finger, causing him to curse again. Bleary-eyed and queasy, he dropped his knife on the table, filled up the needle and shot up.

"You've got to get off that stuff, you know," came Dragon's voice, from where he lay curled around the legs of the bed. "Remember what it did to you last time."

"I need it this time!" China snapped. Dragon sighed and lay down to wait for the high to wear off.

Some hours later, China tottered to the bathroom and vomited. Dragon's tailtip wiped away the cold sweat on his brow, and he mumbled thanks.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Not great." China wiped his mouth. "Shit, I started a fire last night, didn't I? I probably ought to go and check that out ..."

"Well, not right now, you can hardly stand up," Dragon told him, letting China lean on him to make his way back to bed. "Maybe I let you go back to work too early."

"I'll be fine," China protested, even as he collapsed limply back into bed. Dragon tugged the blanket up over him. "Okay, you're right, I'll stay. Just one day ..."

China refused food, but Dragon insisted he drink plenty of water. He swirled the cup gently, staring into the spiral of water as he'd stared into his pipe smoke. "Hey, boss, do you mind leaving me alone for a bit? I want to call my brother?"

"I don't think you can bring his memory back over the phone."

"My iother/i brother."

Dragon left the house, and China dialled Japan's house, holding his breath until Korea picked up the phone.

"China? You're calling again? Sheesh, it must be important ... Sorry, Japan's at work. Did you forget you were calling from the wrong time zone or something?"

"No, I guessed he'd be out. I wanted to talk to you without him bothering us."

"I'm not sure I'm allowed to talk to you either."

"I don't care. I've had a bad few weeks and I just need to hear a friendly voice, even if it is from the most annoying person in the world."

"Aww, brother loves me!" Korea squealed.

"Yeah, yeah. What's that clinking sound?"

"Oh, that? I ran away again and Japan got mad, so ..." The clink sounded again. "Chained my ankles."

"He's _shackled_ you?"

"Don't sound so upset! I take it as a challenge!"

"Yes, you would." China chuckled weakly. He could say this for Korea; it was impossible to remain depressed when talking to him, even if that mood did get replaced by irritation. And he wasn't so bad on the other end of a phone line, when one was out of reach of grabby hands. That would have been the last thing China needed. "At least you're optimistic."

"As always!" Korea declared proudly. "I invented optimism! Shame Japan's people don't appreciate it. I got picked up by the police again, I think he sent my description around, and these two guys from the military base came and drove me home again. Same guys as the last few times - I tried to start a conversation, but I don't think they like me."

"So, uh, you spent some time alone with these people?"

"Just in the car back to Japan's place a few times. Why?"

"Do they ... touch you?" China asked hesitantly.

"Well, duh, they kind of have to. I'm hardly going to go quietly. Running away is hard work, I'm not willingly wasting the effort!"

"That's not what I mean. Do they hurt you?"

"Sometimes they slap me around a bit. One of them said something about my face makes him want to hit me because I look too happy for a slave. Then he smacked me again when I told him I understood what he said."

"How can you be a thousand years old and still this naive?"

"Huh? ... Oh! No, nobody's done that. I think one of them was thinking about it one time, but the other guy said he didn't know what Japan would do if he found out. Said he thought 'Honda-san' was reserving me for himself. He's not," Korea added hastily. "Not like that. I'm still saving myself for you, brother!"

"Great," China said unenthusiastically.

"Why did you even ask?"

"Just worried about you."

"Why? It's not that big a deal."

"Yes it is. It really is. I don't want to catch you letting your humans do anything like that again either, okay? It's not funny, it's not harmless, it's not just something mortals do. Okay?"

"Okay, okay. Sheesh. What brought this on?"

China remained silent, hoping his brother wouldn't put two and two together. Would be a fine thing if he chose now to start paying closer attention to what China said. "... Nothing. Just take care of yourself, okay? And fuck the no-friendly-contact orders, you can always talk to me. If it's important, I mean, I don't want you calling me to brag about inventing whatever it is this time, okay?"

"I'm not allowed to make calls."

"If you're badly hurt that's more important than the rules. Okay?"

"It's nothing I can't handle!"

"Regardless."

"Okay. Um." Korea paused. "Thanks."

"Okay. Good to talk to you. Goodbye."

China hung up, leaving Korea staring at the phone. He shrugged, and went back to the washing-up, moving carefully so as not to trip over the chain linking his ankles. He could walk quite easily, but it was too short to let him run. Still, the guy next door had a hacksaw ...

"Huh, that was weird. Eh, Balhae?" Korea said, apparently to himself. "I can't imagine he just suddenly decided to get worried about me. He doesn't usually. Sure, he loves me and all, but he knows I can take care of myself! Japan's a jerk, but I can handle him ..."

An observer would have seen him stop speaking, apparently listening intently. Suddenly his eyes widened, his curl sagged, and he dropped the teacup he was washing.

"Oh._ Oh."_


	9. Chapter 9

Korea spent a tense and awkward day, redoing his chores over and over in order to keep himself occupied. When he could no longer find anything to do, he tried to concentrate on his Japanese handwriting practice, but horrifying pictures of China naked and bleeding kept intruding into his thoughts. He gave up on writing practice when he realised he was writing China's name over and over, and ended up nervously pacing from room to room, waiting for Japan to get home from work. Maybe he was just overreacting, maybe Japan could tell him what had really happened.

He greeted his brother as soon as he walked in the door, dancing nervously from foot to foot, chains jingling as he did. "Japan! Japan!"

"What?" Japan asked irritably, hanging up his coat, not in the mood for Korea's antics. At least he'd found him still in the house.

"It's China, I think something really bad-"

"In Japanese, Korea! How many times?"

Korea swore under his breath (in Korean, as a tiny defiance), and resumed explaining in Japan's own language. "I said I think something really bad happened to China! I talked to him and he-"

"You know you're not allowed to make personal phone calls."

_"He_ called us- I mean me!"

Japan rolled his eyes. "Honestly, does he have no concept of wartime etiquette? I'll have to ask my boss to talk to his ..."

"That's not the point!"

"Did you ever notice your Japanese grammar gets better when you're trying to persuade me it's important? I knew you were just trying to annoy me."

"This is important! I think he was hurt really bad, worse than usual! I think he was r-"

"Shut up!" Japan shouted, flinching away, before Korea had even finished the word. Korea stopped talking, and blinked in surprise. Japan took a deep breath. "China is fine. Nothing unusual has happened to him. Now go put the kettle on, okay?"

"No!" Korea insisted. "He's _not_ fine! He wouldn't be calling us if he was fine!"

"Stop arguing with me, boy!" snapped Japan, hackles rising. Korea noticed he seemed less angry than frightened, but of what he couldn't say.

"... Are you okay? You sound really upset, is it about this?"

Japan shoved Korea away and clawed at his own head. "No! No, no, I can't, they don't want me to, _I don't want to remember-"_

"Japan, what's going on? What happened? ... What did you do?"

_CRACK!_

Korea sprawled on the floor, hand clasped to the rising bruise across his cheek. Japan looked in horror at the cane he'd snatched from behind the door, as if he didn't remember picking it up. Tears sprang to Korea's eyes, more from surprise than fear or pain. The cane was one thing - corporal punishment was widely practiced, and honestly he didn't mind it much; it hurt but it was better than waiting for the tension to diffuse. But, except on the battlefield, Japan had never struck him in the face.

"Go to your room," Japan said flatly.

"But I-"

"I said, _go to your room." _Japan stared his brother in the eye. He didn't look angry. He looked terrified.

Korea fled.

His "room" wasn't much of one, just about big enough for a patched futon with a thin but serviceable blanket. It hadn't bothered him before, but now it felt like a cage. He lay down, and closed his eyes.

"Shit, shit, shit. What _did_ he do? What _is_ he doing?" More tears rose to his eyes, and he sobbed as his stomach cramped again. More people dead, and horribly so. Japan could lie to him all he wanted, he wasn't stupid enough not to recognise the feeling. He'd just been trying to ignore it, not wanting his brother to be responsible for it.

He stared blankly at the ceiling. "We have got to get out of here."

_No!_

Korea blinked. "What?"

_We've tried to escape and it didn't work! And if he did ... that thing ... what'll he do to us if we piss him off too much? He's already shackled us. No, we need to stay here and keep an eye on him!_

Korea sat up, wiping his streaming eyes and wincing as he touched the bruise. "So what, be good little slaves and let him torture our people more?"

_If we can find a way to stop him, or escape, we will. But he's going to keep closer watch on us now, and probably be worse if we do cause trouble. So yes, we should keep quiet and watch for a chance._

"Okay. That makes sense."

_And if it comes down to it, we know where he keeps the knives and matches, so at least we can slow him down a bit._

"Isn't that a bit extreme?"

_Better than what he'll do to us, if he really did that to China._

"Okay. Okay, I'll keep my eyes open and see if there's anything we can do. Love you, North."

Korea's curl twisted around like a snake, his eyes glinted softly golden, and his mouth curved into a sad smile. _I love you too, brother._


	10. Chapter 10

**While the Japanese treatment of Korean humans was inexcusably horrific, I have difficulty picturing Japan the character as acting that way, hence Korea being in kind of a Chibitalia position here. So I thought it would be fun to have him meet Italy - I now want to see something fluffier and more harmless than this with them. Anyone got any recs? I don't think it's been done before.**

**Also, when I said on the meme that nothing happens to Korea in this? I lied. What happens to him/them in future chapters probably counts as worse than what happened to China. Stay tuned.**

* * *

"Oh, hi there! I'm Italy Veneziano, what's your name?" Italy asked, accepting the proffered cup of tea.

"Oh, hello, sir. My name's Korea," the boy in question said, dipping his head in the nearest motion he could get to a bow while holding a tray. "I'm an annexed territory, so I'm working for big brother Japan now."

"Oh, like me when I was little! I worked at Mr Austria's place for a long time." Italy shuffled up and patted the seat beside him. "Come on and sit down, you must be tired."

"Oh, I really shouldn't. Brother doesn't want me fraternising."

"We're not fraternising, we're just talking!"

Korea shrugged and sat down, ankle restraints clinking, and put the tea tray on the table. "Okay. I guess if it's not about the war I can talk to you. So, er, you were a conquered territory?"

"Oh yes! Two hundred and fifty-five years at Mr Austria's place."

"Wow! I've only been here about thirty." Korea giggled nervously, unsure whether this information made him feel better or worse. The idea of being stuck under the thumb of his brother for centuries was not a pleasant one, especially if North was right about what he'd done. He noticed Italy looking at his chains. "These are fairly new, though - last year. I ran away too often. It's not too bad, he takes them off me at night. Of course then he locks me in my room, but I try to look on the bright side."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Sounds like what Mr Austria did to me when I messed up. He used to tie me to a tree and stick a sign on me saying 'Do Not Feed Pasta'. It's okay, though, I'm my own nation now and he's not so bad once you get to know him," Italy said, patting Korea's back. "You'll get along fine with your brother eventually too! Did Japan put you in that dress? Miss Hungary used to put me in one."

"This is a kimono!" Korea said with a scowl. "But yeah, he put me in this, and he cut my hair off." He tugged at the hair at his nape. "Apparently Japanese gentlemen don't wear long braids and he wants me to be a 'proper Japanese citizen' now," he added, waving a hand contemptuously. Japan wasn't around, he could say what he thought.

"Aw, that sucks. You have very nice hair."

"Thanks. I was upset when he cut it, but I'm used to it now. Easier to look after," Korea said, smiling. "Like I always say, I invented optimism!"

Italy giggled. "So, are you okay here?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Japan himself is ... okay to us- I mean me," Korea said, hoping Italy didn't pick up on the lie. "Kind of standoffish, but he's not too bad. But it's a bit lonely here. You know what Japan's like, and I don't really have any friends here." There was always Balhae, but he'd sworn not to tell anyone about her. Japan had walked in on them once, but luckily had simply told Korea to stop talking to himself before everyone started thinking he was as crazy as Russia.

"Oh, you poor guy! I can't imagine what that's like, at least I had Miss Hungary and Holy Rome," Italy said sadly. "Do you want me to tell Japan you're lonely?"

"No, no, it's okay," Korea babbled, raising a hand. He couldn't let Japan know he was unhappy, he didn't know how he'd respond.

"Okay. Do you need a hug, then? It's the least I can do."

"... Okay." Except for the odd attempt at hugging Japan, which usually resulted in a lecture, Korea had been starved of affectionate contact for thirty years. Balhae gave him verbal affection, weird and kind of creepy as she had become in the past milennium, but she couldn't really hug him. He blinked away tears as Italy's arms wrapped around him. He squeezed Italy hard in return. "Thanks."

"It's okay." Unfortunately, as Italy moved away, his curl came into contact with Korea's. Korea tried to pull away, but only succeeded in knotting the hairs together.

"Ow!"

"Sorry!"

"It's okay, this happens a lot with me and my brother Romano - ow, don't pull!"

"Sorry again!"

Japan chose this moment to walk in, and almost had a facial expression at the sight. "Oh dear." He shook his head and tutted. "Italy, I apologise for my brother."

"No need, my fault!" Italy squeaked, picking at the knot in his hair. Korea blushed violently as Italy's fingers brushed against the Korean Spirit. "It's okay, I can handle it!"

"Are you sure you don't need help?" Japan reached out and took hold of Korea's curl. "Here, an extra pair of hands might-"

"NOOO, DON'T TOUCH THAT!" Korea wailed.

Japan blinked in surprise and backed off. "Sorry, did I squeeze too hard?"

"N-no. I-I-I just ... don't touch me there, please." Korea licked his fingers and started to ease the curls free. Italy squeaked. "Sorry! I know how it is, just hold still."

"Is something wrong?" Japan frowned. "You never minded this much - remember when you got it caught on that branch? Are you mad at me? You've been so good recently, I thought we were getting along so much better!"

"It's ... nothing," Korea mumbled. Whenever Japan touched him, even accidentally, he couldn't help but tense, half-expecting his brother to grab him and throw him down and ... He tried not to think about it. He had to protect himself. And Balhae.

The curl sprang free, and Korea fled the room, leaving the tea tray behind.

Italy looked up at Japan. "What's with him?"

Japan shrugged. "I don't know. He was always a bit odd. Mind if I join you for tea?"


	11. Chapter 11

The war was dragging on, and so was the Allies' meeting. After listening to America talk constantly for multiple hours, showering the entire table in burger crumbs the whole time, China was ready to scream. Did the stupid kid think this was a game? ... Yes, he probably did. Most nations did. China had, until a year ago. It's hard to empathise when, as far as you know, you'll come out unscathed.

Worse, the Europeans hadn't got over their habit of trying to push him around from the bad old days before the Second Opium War. His scars tingled lightly as he thought of it.

_(they're using you again just like those bastards used you in the city you're nothing to them just a warm body then and a source of cheap labour now who the fuck do they think they are treating the oldest living nation on earth like that they'll all pay but i'm so tired i just want to forget it all)_

America stopped talking as the sound of China's pen snapping in his hand interrupted his monologue. The other Allies stared. China glared back. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing ... you've broken your pen, but go ahead, if you wanna break your own pens I'm not stopping you," America babbled.

China sighed. "Sorry, I've just been a bit tense lately."

"We all are," England said, in an awkward attempt at comfort. "Um, I know you still hate me, and I know exactly why. But if you need any help ...?"

"I'm fine, opium bastard," China said through gritted teeth.

_(you just used me too i thought we were friends and you fucked me and fucked over my people and got me on this fucking drug)_

The meeting finally ended, and China paced the corridor, waiting for the tension to diffuse. It was a slow and painful process.

He caught sight of a figure with soft blond hair, and smiled to himself. Maybe he could speed it up.

He darted forward and grabbed the person's arm. "Hey, France. You said you think I'm cute, right? Okay, let's fuck."

"What? I'm Canada!"

China stopped, blinking. "Who?"

"Ca-na-da! You know, the guy who lives above America?"

"Oh, right. Well, the offer's still on," China said, pushing the nagging hint of guilt away.

_(my turn to use someone)_

"What?" Canada blushed scarlet. "I-I ... you can't even remember my name! You've never spoken to me before today except when I try to remind you who I am!"

"I know. I'm bored. Sure you're not interested?"

"Excuse me, are you bothering my ex-colony?" came an icy voice from behind China. He spun around to see an irritated-looking France.

"Not any more. I was looking for you." China was relieved. Had he really been trying to bully poor Canada into ...

_(shit i'm as bad as they were no no i'm not can't think like that i wouldn't really have pushed him that far but still i freaked him out shitty thing to do no it's okay he's fine)_

China turned around to apologise, but Canada had fled in the meantime. China shrugged and promptly forgot about him, as usual. He turned back to France and said "So, did you hear that?"

"Enough to tell you were propositioning him."

"Only because I couldn't find you."

France's eyebrow raised elegantly. "Don't you still hate me?"

"Yes, but I need to take out stress and I don't have many options." China checked them off on his fingers. "I hate England more than you, you saw how whatsisname reacted-"

"Canada."

"-whatever ... I don't know if Russia even knows what the word means, let's not even discuss America, and humans aren't, ah, durable enough."

"Oh, well, in that case ..." France said with a shrug and a sleazy grin. "My room is closer."

France regretted the decision shortly afterwards. Liking it rough was one thing, but the experience felt less like sex than trying to restrain an angry rat. China screamed and clawed and bit, and it felt more like luck than judgment that was causing his nails to miss France's eyes.

France's Chinese wasn't up to much, but as China's hands closed around his throat, he recognised one worrying phrase. China had used it quite a lot during the Opium Wars.

_"I'll kill you, motherfucker!"_

France shoved China off him, causing him to land on the floor with a yell.

"Ow! What the fuck ...?" China rubbed his head. "Hey, you lost your erection."

"Yes, that tends to happen when my life is threatened. I know enough Chinese to know what you just said."

"Shit. Sorry, didn't mean for that to come out." China got up and started pulling his clothes back on. "Sorry about that. And thanks. I should go."

"What about you?" asked France worriedly. "You didn't even get hard to start with! I didn't think I was that bad."

"It's a ... medical thing."

"Shit, I think you're bleeding! I did say I thought you needed more lube."

"You're bleeding too," China said, pointing to the scratches and bites all over France's torso.

France ignored him, looking at China's forearms as he pulled on his jacket. "Are those trackmarks?"

"No," China lied blatantly, not even bothering to come up with an excuse. He finished fastening his buttons and stalked to the door. France jumped up and grabbed his arm as China's hand touched the doorknob.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I told you, I've been stressed," China said dully. "My brother's being a jackass to me and our other brother, you're all being jackasses to me and each other, and it's been too long since I've been able to kill something so I went for the next best thing ... Hey, what are you- no!"

France pulled China's hand up to his face and rolled his sleeve down. "These _are_ trackmarks. I thought you were off that stuff decades ago!"

"None of your fucking business!"

Before China entirely realised what he was doing, France was slumping against the wall, clutching his blackened eye.

"Fuck." China stared at his hand. "... Sorry. I got carried away."

France raised a hand to forestall further discussion, and bent to pick up his clothes. China watched, unsure if he should leave. Once he was decently dressed, France looked China in the eye again, and spoke. "Look. I know it's none of my business. But your people need you. _We_ need you. And you need to be well. You really have to get off that stuff."

China looked guiltily at his hands. "I know. Okay. I'll get off the stuff, and I'm sorry I hit you."

"Yes, well." France rubbed his face. "Arguments are one thing, but if I'm going to be punched in the bedroom I like an advance warning. It's okay, just try to sort yourself out now, yes?"

"Okay."

China made it down the corridor to his own room before the tears emerged. He curled up on his bed, shaking and sobbing. Fuck, he wanted the drug now. He mentally thanked his lucky stars that France had assumed his state was entirely down to the drugs, and that he hadn't recognised any of the other phrases he'd screamed.

He dug in his pocket and found his needle. Yeah, France was right. He had to give it up. Tomorrow.


	12. Chapter 12

China clawed around in the drawer of the bedside table. "Dragon? Dragon! Where'd my stuff go?"

"I threw it out," said Dragon sternly. "You're getting off the opium _now."_

"What?"

"Your people need you, and they need you to be sober."

"No! No, you can't, I _need_ that!" China half-jumped, half-fell out of bed and grabbed frantically at Dragon's forelimb. "Come on, where'd you hide it?"

"I poured the solution out and snapped the needle, and you ran out of the smokable stuff months ago. I'm not letting you put that shit into yourself again!"

"No, you _can't!_ You can't do this to me!" China's fists battered weakly at Dragon's coils. In the peak of health China could punch through a brick wall, and could have caused even a dragon some pain, but in his current state he could barely move his arms. He sagged onto the floor, shaking. "You can't make me do this again!"

Dragon stroked his hair with a claw, looking down at him sadly. "China, you can't hide forever. Your humans have already started calling me to tell me you're acting oddly, and they need you to be around more often than you have been. I'll help you every step of the way, but you're coming off that stuff."

"I hate you," China choked out.

"Fine, hate me. Just let me help you anyway." Dragon gently lifted the unresisting China up and placed him back in his bed. China curled up facing the wall, pulling a tiny stuffed panda out from under the pillow and hugging it. Dragon had already seen him at his lowest, there was no need to be ashamed of a stuffed toy. He no longer had the energy or will to move, and attacking Dragon wouldn't help; all he could do was wait for the withdrawal symptoms. The sooner they started, the sooner they'd be over. He'd already gone through them when trying to kick the habit in the 1850s; he could do it again, little as he relished the thought. He tried to put it out of his mind, and soon fell asleep again. He would need his strength for the coming ordeal.

In a swirl of smoke, Dragon took on his human shape. This was a job that needed hands, not claws.

China woke again late in the afternoon, tense and sweating. "Boss?" he groaned. "I think it's starting ..." He curled in on himself, clutching his stomach, and gasped. Dragon settled in the chair beside the bed, and prepared for the worst.

As he technically didn't need to eat, China had been forgetting to do so long enough that his stomach was empty. Dragon ensured he drank enough water; bringing it up hurt, but was less damaging than dry-heaving. Dragon ignored China's angry ranting and threats, soothed him when he wept, changed the sheets without a word when China lost control of his bodily functions or missed the sick-basin.

In his delirium, China no longer recognised Dragon. He screamed at Dragon, or at imaginary figures, threatening or begging, promising riches and power and his land's unconditional surrender if whoever it was would only stop touching him, then changing his tune and offering all manner of lewd favours in exchange for getting his drugs. Sometimes he screamed Japan's name, cursing him and all his people, then crying and begging forgiveness. Once he thrashed and fought so violently Dragon had to tie China to the bedposts with his own belt in order to get water down his throat; China could normally have broken free in seconds, but now he was too weak.

It took a week, but finally China was lucid again. He sprawled limply across the sweat-soaked sheets, breathing slowly.

Dragon resumed his normal form and shook himself. The human body was desperately uncomfortable, like wearing clothes several sizes too small, and staying in it for most of a week had been starting to hurt. He coiled around China, who clung to him like a lifeline.

"Dragon?" China mumbled. "I don't really hate you. And thanks."

"I know."

"Am I weak?"

"No! You're one of the strongest nations - one of the strongest _people_ I know. You survived this long, didn't you?"

"I mean with this. Going back to the opium." China rubbed at the marks on his wrists. "Here I am, the oldest nation on Earth, brought down by something so stupid. What am I, mortal?"

Dragon nudged him gently. "Kid, everyone has their weak moments. It doesn't mean you can't _ever_ be strong again."

Over the next few weeks, China started to eat and sleep normally again. As his strength returned, he practised with sword and gun again, returning to his previous standards far faster than a human could. Four thousand years of practice couldn't be erased by one year out of commission. He no longer suffered from uncontrolled crying jags or fits of rage; of course the feelings still lurked in his mind, but he was now learning to put them aside. He took out his simmering anger during weaponry practice, several hours a day. One day, when that wasn't enough, he went hunting, shot a boar, and butchered it bare-handed. He carried the carcass home, flushed and grinning with pride. Soon he'd be ready to face the battlefield again, and this time he'd have better luck.

Later, as they shared the cooked pig, Dragon noticed China was looking distressed again. Quiet, staring into his bowl, toying with the noodles and meat chunks. "Are you okay?"

"Just thinking about Japan. I keep thinking, was it really his boss's fault he said he didn't remember? Maybe he changed his mind? Wouldn't be the first time he betrayed me, abandoned me ..." China's voice trailed into an angry hiss, and he stabbed a piece of pork with his chopsticks.

"If he was consciously lying, I think he'd have at least tried to come up with something more convincing than 'it didn't happen'. Backstabber he might be, but he's not _stupid,"_ Dragon said, as reassuringly as he could.

"Heh, I guess you're right. Besides, he really did sound surprised. Eh, I guess there's no point worrying about it now. I'll deal with it next time I run into him." China shrugged, and finished his soup.

The next day, he set off for the Allies' secret headquarters, still not feeling perfectly well, but much more prepared to face them than he had been the first time. He was able to smile for real again, no longer found himself stewing on everything that was wrong whenever England or America annoyed him again, and could finally actually concentrate on his work.

After yet another dull meeting, France took China aside and whispered "So are you ... better?"

China showed off his trackmark-free arms. "Not perfect, but better than I was." He turned to leave, then glanced back. "And, uh ... I'm sorry, and thanks for everything."

France smiled and nodded.

* * *

**Timeline changed from the original posted on the meme because it was too quick even for someone with accelerated healing. Speaking of timeline, the next part that I've got actually written has to take place in 1944 and so far the story's only got up to early 1940 - I don't want to skip the intervening time, but I'm a tad stuck on what to put in the middle. Anyone got any suggestions? I know it needs stuff from Japan's point of view, but not sure what could happen. Maybe their time on That Fucking Island.**


	13. Chapter 13

"Hey, Japan?"

"Mm?" Japan rolled over to face Italy and brushed sand out of his hair. At his back, Germany snored quietly.

"What's your little brother doing while you're here? I liked him, I'm just wondering if he's okay," Italy asked, sounding worried. "You didn't just lock him in the closet, did you?"

"Don't be silly! He'll be fine. It's not like I could leave him in the house while I was away, my boss found someone to babysit him."

"Good," Italy said, smiling, and looked up at the stars. "I was kind of worried. I mean, you said we'd be here one week, and it's been six already. People will be wondering where we are. I tried to walk home and I can't get off the island!"

"Yes, I tried too - that only works if you know exactly where you are in relation to where you're trying to go, and the shipwreck left us all rather disoriented," Japan said, and closed his eyes dreamily. "When we win this war, we'll explore the world and make sure there are no more stupid little uncharted islands lurking around. My land already has hundreds of tiny islands, a few more won't be a problem. You can have this one, if you want it. I don't think Germany ever wants to see it again once we leave."

"Oh, yay!" Italy clapped his hands and squealed. "Maybe it can become a colony. Would it be a boy or a girl? ... Well, first things first, it needs a name."

"Germany and I already gave it a name."

"Well, yes, but 'This Fucking Island' isn't a very nice name for a colony, is it?"

Japan let his mind wander amid Italy's ramblings. He liked Italy, but the man gabbled far too much. Reminded him of Korea back in the old days, before Japan had taken him under his wing. Little barbarian, his culture had had a promising start and then stalled centuries ago. Japan blamed the loss of his family; came with the territory with nations, but the boy's installation as United Korea had resulted in the death of both his mother and his sister, and despite his cheerfulness Japan wasn't sure if he'd ever got over that. He was proud of how Korea was turning out now, though. Quite the little gentleman, now he'd had his hair cut properly and was learning a _real_ language. Showed how much a good role model and some proper discipline could do. And he was so much better behaved this past year or two, now he'd stopped trying to run off; so much more quiet and dignified, none of that silly grabbing and hugging and constant talking.

More worryingly, no _smiling ..._

Japan put that out of his mind. Korea had been adolescent for centuries, mood swings were only to be expected. Maybe this one was lasting a bit longer than usual, but Japan remembered the decade's worth of growing pains he'd suffered when he turned one thousand. Nothing to worry about. And if the lack of hug attacks was unusual, well, maybe at last the boy was learning the concept of personal space. Maybe once he got back he'd give Korea a gift to show how much he appreciated his new obedience; one of those new gadgets he seemed so fascinated by. And maybe a hug. Perhaps he'd earned it. Japan didn't usually do hugs, but he'd forgotten Korea was much more physically demonstrative. Or he usually was, anyway ... And perhaps now he wasn't running away any more, Japan could take the restraints off him. Just for a while, to see if he could be trusted. Probably he could, now; Japan hadn't even had to use the cane in ... when was the last time? Over a year ago now.

Or maybe not quite that long ago. Japan's face twisted in concentration as he tried to catch hold of a memory.

_(Korea slumped against the wall, clutching his face, eyes watering, the cane in Japan's hand. Both terrified, Japan not quite sure why. The bruise swelling and blooming over the next few days, Korea remaining almost silent the whole time, except for whispers and sobs coming from his room at night.)_

No, it couldn't be real. Japan wouldn't hit the boy in the face. Corporal punishment was one thing, but that crossed a line. Admittedly he couldn't suffer permanent damage from it, but still, potentially making him have to regrow an eye or recover from brain damage ...

Come to think of it, Korea had left the bathroom door open one night. Japan had gone to close it as Korea stepped into the shower, and had seen bruises and fresh scars scattered all over his brother's body. Ones Japan definitely hadn't put there, and which didn't look like the results of everyday clumsiness, and Korea hadn't been alone with anyone else long enough for them to do this to him. One of the wounds looked like the mark of a whip. Worse, there was another which looked like a bitemark on his thigh. Japan had quietly backed away, not letting his brother know he was there. He'd worried over it briefly, then been distracted by something, and completely forgotten about it for months. Huh. Didn't seem like something he should have forgotten. Really it was nothing out of the ordinary, battles and crushed uprisings resulted in wounds to nations all the time. But Japan had been told the annexation was going perfectly smoothly, the people were being educated and provided with work and the economy was improving rapidly. If anything, Korea should have been feeling better than ever! What could be going so badly wrong? ...

Well, there was nothing he could do about it here. When he got back, he'd talk to Korea, and to his boss. He wanted his brother to be raised properly, but he definitely didn't want him to suffer like that. He'd make things better for his brother, just as he'd been trying to do all along. Korea might not appreciate it, and maybe he'd not been going about it the right way, but he meant it well. It was for Korea's own good, it really was.

Japan fell asleep, and dreamed of a world in which he brought peace and ruled wisely, his younger siblings respecting him and China praising him, and his empire lasted forever. When he was woken by the smell of barbecuing fish and Italy's shrieks as he tried to extract a crab from his hair again, he had forgotten about his family's problems entirely.

* * *

**Most occupation-era fics I've seen involve Japan being sexually abusive to Korea. The disgraceful behaviour of his humans at the time aside (the bitemark represents the suffering of the "comfort women"), I don't see Kiku being involved in that - too much body contact. _Mental_ abuse, on the other hand ... I'm trying to get across that Korea is suffering while not making Japan seem outright evil. He genuinely thinks he's helping, but centuries of being told he's the best country ever combines with an utter lack of knowledge on how to raise a teenage brother and the acceptance of bad treatment for annexed territories. The Japanese did bring a lot of new tech over to Korea - if I recall correctly they installed Korea's first tram lines - so I think that makes for a good analogue of him giving Korea cool toys but no affection. Also, 1940s-era Japan's thoughts on the Korean civilisation are not mine, and not those of everyone in 21st-century Japan.**


	14. Chapter 14

**The next couple of chapters are a bit sillier. We need a hope spot, and it's not really possible to make the island sequence totally serious.**

* * *

"Shut up about the stupid plane!" America shouted. "Anyone could have made that mistake!"

"Yes, but you're the one who crashed it and dropped us here!" England ranted at him.

"Shut up, I've almost got the radio working!" China snapped, yanking a wire and swearing when it snapped and cut his hand. "Or not. No, no, I can do this, really ..."

America sighed. "Well, at least poor Canada's not stuck here with us."

"I'm _right here,_ asshole!" Canada yelled from three feet behind him, causing America to nearly jump out of his skin. France shook his head and tutted.

"Guys, guys!" Russia ran up the hill towards the other Allies, waving frantically. His scarf streamed out behind him; even in this heat he refused to take it off. "Come and look!"

Everyone dropped what they were doing and followed him to the cliffside. He pointed down, and everyone looked to see three figures on the beach ...

England blinked. "That's _never_ the Axis, is it?"

America produced his binoculars and peered through them. "Looks like them."

"Huh. What are the odds?" China smirked. _Well, it was time for my luck to turn. Let's see if I can drag Japan off somewhere private._ I'll make _him remember what happened if I have to._

* * *

Darkness fell, and the Axis huddled beside the fire. Despite the latitude, the sea breeze was cold at night. Italy slept, releasing the occasional "veee" sound. Germany and Japan idly watched the fire, not really expecting an attack.

China was impressed. He was sure the Allies had made no noise - even oblivious America and big clumsy Russia - and yet Germany and Japan must have sensed their approach, as they looked up at the cliffside and saw their enemies emerging from the dark woods. The Axis readied their weapons, or in Italy's case his white flag. Good, they'd put up a fair fight. China was pleased. He'd taught Japan well.

"Hahahaha! Listen to me and my total hero voice, guys!" America's obnoxious voice echoed across the shore._ "China! I choose you!"_

As he jumped, China realised that, instead of a gun or sword, he was still holding the wok and ladle. In his hurry to follow the others to battle, he'd forgotten to put them down. _Shit! No, no, I can work with this. It's a big heavy piece of metal, it could be worse ..._ He inwardly congratulated himself as he knocked the pistol from Germany's hand. _See? Heh, I'm strong again. Now I don't even need a real weapon! Maybe I should fight with this thing more often!_

With a _CLANG!_ Germany was down, and China was ducking under Japan's sword.

"Not so weak now, am I, bitch?" he snarled, half his mind back in Nanking, and Japan's face twisted in confusion before the wok struck it and laid him out flat. China blinked, coming back to the present, and felt a brief pang of guilt. _Ah well, I'll "talk" to him later ..._ He turned to see his last target; Italy waved his white flag and started babbling pleas for mercy. China scowled. He had no patience for cowardice, but at least Italy was an _honest_ coward. Not the kind he'd seen among mortals in the war ... no, no, now wasn't the time to be bitter, he still had a capture to finish. An easy one, though.

He paid no heed to the sound of rushing water until he caught a glimpse of the expressions of shock on the faces of both his companions and his enemies. Slowly, carefully, he turned around.

_What the fuck? Is that ... Rome?_

* * *

"No _way_ was that a ghost!" America insisted, huddling inside his jacket and glancing around nervously. He scowled down at the already-sleeping Russia, then looked back at the others. "Are you guys even sure that was Rome?"

"Certainly looked like him," England said. "I was only little when he was around, but I'm sure it was him. China? You were an adult when you last saw him, can we assume you have clearer memories?"

"Definitely him," China said, nodding. It had been quite a shock to see Rome again. _My old friend. Another one against me. Did I do something to deserve this?_

"Why do you think he showed up?" England asked.

"Perhaps the smell of your cooking finally reached the Pearly Gates and is ruining the atmosphere," France said, smirking. England roared angrily and sprang at him, their scuffle nearly ending up in the fire. America laughed, finally ceasing to tremble with fear.

As the others fought, China suddenly became aware of an eerie presence at his side. Hand on his knife, he turned around to see a nervous-looking blond. Something about him was terribly familiar ... Oh. Oh yeah. Him. Well, better late than never ...

"Uh, what's your name again?"

The blond sighed. "Canada. It's okay, everyone forgets."

"Well, uh, I remember ... that thing I said to you once, back at HQ. You know? And I'd like to apologise. I was having a bad time, but I shouldn't have tried to take it out on you. That was cruel of me. And, uh, the offer's cancelled. You were right, it's a bad idea."

"Uh, no biggie," Canada giggled nervously, shuffling away. "Consider it forgotten."

France finally freed himself of England's grip and straightened his jacket. "What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing!" China assured him. "Nothing bad. Promise."

"Go to sleep!" Russia mumbled, raising his pipe too sleepily to be threatening. He rolled over and started snoring and sucking the end of the pipe like a pacifier.

"Ah, doesn't he just look like a little giant psychotic angel?" England whispered, snickering. China muffled his own laughter with his sleeve.

"Maybe we should all go to sleep," America said, shuffling closer to Canada. "We'll track 'em down again tomorrow night. And this time we won't run away!"

* * *

"Sheesh, China, I thought you and Rome were friends - why does he hate us?" America asked the next night, huddling under his jacket again.

"I don't think he hates us," China said, shrugging. "If anything, I think he's protecting his grandson." He looked wistfully into the fire. "Family is important."

"More to the point, why do we keep running away? It's only a ghost!" England protested.

_"Only_ a ghost?" America squeaked.

"England has a point," Russia said. "Synchronised panicking only counts as a battle plan if you're French."

"Hey!" France and Canada protested in unison. France scowled at Canada and said "Why are you complaining? You're only half French."

"All of you shut up, I'm trying to have a sentimental moment!" China snapped, swatting America and France over the head.

Mentally, he giggled. Maybe the other Allies were okay. It was nice to have company. Finally, he felt normal again.


	15. Chapter 15

**I know it's not the appropriate season, but I couldn't resist. Been chatting with a friend about how Korea's story seems to be a loose analogue of Shiloh's in "Repo! The Genetic Opera", with Japan as Nathan, and I guess this is his "Chase The Morning" sequence (except Finland likely won't be showing up again, much less losing his eyes).**

* * *

Korea was woken by the sound of bells. He squirmed and sat up, irritated.

The family who had taken him in while Japan was away weren't exactly nice to him, but they were bearable. They knew who Japan was, and by extention who Korea was, so they didn't quite dare actually hurt him. Most of the time they ignored him except to tell him what chores he needed to do next, though the two teenage daughters giggled either at or about him a lot. He didn't mind. He didn't even care about what they called him, either what they said to his face or the worse things they said behind his back. At least he didn't lie awake nights wondering if they were going to decide to start touching him and ... Actually, he'd be quite happy if Japan never came back. Though at least at Japan's place he was allowed something approaching an actual bed, but oh well, the floor was at least not draughty. The drawers and cupboards containing sharp objects were unfortunately locked, so he couldn't find anything to break open his chains, but even so, it could have been worse. At least he got to see some people other than Japan. The daughters sometimes talked to him and even let him gently flirt with them, when their father wasn't listening. He made sure to maintain a respectful physical distance, but it was fun to occasionally say something just daring enough to make them giggle with him instead of at him.

The window burst open. Korea yelped, jumping to his feet and promptly falling over again when he tripped over his shackles. The window had been locked - he knew, he'd checked it in vain hope before going to sleep. Icy wind blew in, and a dark figure appeared, silhouetted against the moonlight. Korea trembled, wondering whether to call for help. The figure spoke.

"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!"

Korea gaped as the figure climbed through the window, revealing itself to be a young blond in a red fur-trimmed coat and hat, carrying a bulging sack. It was definitely another nation, but Korea didn't immediately recognise him.

"What the heck's going on?" he hissed, starting to shake; he was wearing only his undergarments, and the wind was freezing. He picked up his shirt and tugged it on.

"Oh, hello! Korea, right?" said the blond, closing the window. "Don't be scared! I'm Finland, my friends call me Tino, and tonight I'm Santa!"

"Santa?" Korea asked in disbelief.

"Yes! Haven't you heard? On Christmas Eve I bring gifts to all the good boys and girls! And nations."

"I know who Santa is! Isn't he supposed to be some fat guy with a huge beard?"

"Don't believe everything you hear, kid," said Finland with a chuckle.

Korea raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I have to ask; why are you visiting me? I don't celebrate Christmas, I'm not even Christian."

"I know, but being Santa is about bringing goodwill to _everyone,"_ Finland told him. "I don't usually visit people who don't leave stockings out, but I figured it wouldn't be very Christian to leave people out, would it?"

"Heh, guess not. But, uh, I don't think there's any present I can have. Japan doesn't let me have anything he didn't check out first."

"Well, I'll just have to make sure there's no evidence," said Finland with a wink, taking a box from his sack and handing it over. "Burn the box and paper when you're done."

Korea ripped off the shiny paper, squealing when he uncovered the contents. "Red ginseng candy! Thank you, thank you, I've missed this stuff! Japan hasn't let me have candy in thirty-two years, he says I'm too old for candy and it'll make me fat. Huh, I'd have stolen some from him, but he doesn't even seem to like sweets."

"Glad you like it," said Finland, beaming. "Oh, I have one more thing for you."

"Another present?" Korea blinked. "What?"

Finland threw his arms around the boy's skinny body and hugged him firmly. "Here. I guess you don't get hugged much."

Korea returned the hug hard enough to knock Finland's breath out. "No, I don't. Thanks! And give Italy a hug from me?"

"Sure!" Finland leaned closer and whispered into Korea's ear, "Your brothers do love you, you know. They just suck at showing it."

Korea, for once, didn't know how to respond. He pulled away, smiling sadly. "Well, I guess you've got other people to see. I shouldn't keep you here."

"Yes, I should be going - gotta deliver presents to every country on Earth before dawn!" Finland picked up his sack and headed for the door, waving. "I'll visit you next Christmas!"

"Oh, please do!" Korea leaned out of the window and waved as Finland's sleigh rose into the sky. "Bye! Happy Christmas! See you next year!" He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw Finland waving back as he disappeared behind a cloudbank.

Happy tears streaked down Korea's face as he sat cross-legged below the window and tore open the candy box. "Aw, wasn't that nice, eh, Balhae? He's so sweet! I really needed to see a friendly face - well, there's you, but I mean outside a mirror. And look, we have candy now!"

_Bleh. Christmas. Just some stupid Western plot to take us over with shiny toys._

"Don't be rude, Balhae, or I won't let you ride along while I eat this candy."

_... Okay, maybe it's not so bad. Now don't hog it. Screw_ your_ lack of candy, I haven't had any for one thousand and sixteen years! Next time, get yourself annexed by someone who keeps sweets in the house._

Korea giggled, and he and Balhae, sharing their tastebuds, set about destroying the evidence.


	16. Chapter 16

"I can't believe you'd been contacting the mainland for weeks and didn't tell us! You must be the only person in the world who would build a _town_ solely to prank your little brother!"

China snickered into his hand as Germany yelled at him. Well, Japan had accused him of pulling stupid pranks when he wasn't, that time; might as well actually do it.

"Guys, stop yelling, I'm trying to fly this thing!" America shouted from the pilot's seat.

Japan shuffled and tested the strength of the cuffs. No hope there, they were designed with the strength of an empire in mind; then again, even if he did break free, he wasn't desperate enough to try jumping from a flying helicopter. He wouldn't die permanently, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt a hell of a lot. Well, it was time China had his moment of good luck. _Enjoy it while you can, big brother,_ Japan thought sourly. Maybe asking China to take them home had been a bad idea; China had agreed, and the rest of the Allies had shown up and promptly taken the Axis prisoner.

Italy seemed quite calm, despite the discomfort of the cuffs. Japan was baffled as to why, but Italy actually seemed to _like_ being a prisoner. He sighed. What were they going to do with the adorable little coward?

China had finally dropped the smug grin he'd worn when the Axis had been taken, and was looking sideways at Japan from behind his hair. He seemed tense, and occasionally glanced over at America with a look of annoyance. Almost as if he wished America hadn't turned up. Japan wondered why.

* * *

China paced the corridor, breathing heavily. _It's okay. He's your brother. Even if he doesn't remember, even if you're __enemies, he doesn't hate you enough not to listen._ He tugged at his hair, trying to stop himself shaking. He really, really did not want to have to describe his experience again, but there was no way around it. He needed Japan to know what his countrymen were doing, and what his bosses were doing to him. He would have told him sooner, but he couldn't spill it in front of anyone else from either side. No, he'd take Japan out for "questioning", and instead share some answers.

No more putting it off. He took a deep breath, drew himself up, and turned to head for the cells.

A familiar annoying presence loomed around the corner. "Heyyy! China, dude, whatcha doing?"

China grabbed America's collar and yanked him down, snarling into his face "If you do not let me have some alone time with my brother, I will rip your arms off with my bare hands and beat you to death with the wet ends. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" America squeaked.

China let him go, smirking. "Good." He turned on his heel and stalked down the corridor towards the cells.

He arrived just in time to see Japan stepping into the freshly-dug escape tunnel, Italy and Germany already out of sight. _Oh, for fuck's sake ..._ China rolled his eyes and ran to grab his brother. Japan yelled in surprise and fell backwards into China's arms.

"You're not leaving until I talk to you," China growled.

"I'm afraid I must decline that offer, brother dear," hissed Japan, driving his elbow into China's chest. He hit the scar, still raw after years had passed, and China gasped and let go. Japan smirked obnoxiously. "Looks like you're getting old." Before China could object, Japan kicked him in the knee, hard enough that China heard the bone snap before he felt the pain, and swung a fist into his jaw, cracking that bone as well. China stumbled and dropped onto his unbroken knee, clutching his face, and Japan fled down the tunnel.

China breathed deeply and concentrated on willing his bones back together. The fragments slowly sealed back into place, and soon he was able to stand. Not soon enough. He climbed down the tunnel, wincing as his leg still hurt, drawing his gun. He'd rather his brother be able to walk back, but he'd willingly carry the corpse if he had to.

Sadly, he was too late. When he emerged from the other end of the tunnel into America's forest, the prisoners had vanished. One very obvious trail led east; Italy never had managed to master combining fleeing for his life with being subtle. Another trail led north, this one made by a large man, presumably Germany, trying very hard not to leave a trail but being in too much of a hurry to succeed. Of Japan there was no sign. He could have gone with either of his allies, or on his own. He was always good at slipping away unseen. China cursed.

"I did _not_ raise you to run out on your family like this, you ungrateful bastard!" he shouted, just in case Japan was listening. The only answer was the rustle of leaves in the wind.

* * *

In the car back to Japan's house, Korea had let Japan talk. It was rare that his dour brother wanted to speak more than a few words at a time, but he must have become tired of speaking only to the same two people for months, and Korea didn't like to interrupt. Besides, nervous as he was about being back in Japan's custody, the story of the Axis' sojourn on the island was actually very interesting. Soon, Korea got bold enough to start asking questions. Japan started out answering happily enough, but Korea's questions became exponentially faster and more detailed. By the time they arrived at the house, Japan was giving single-word answers and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"So did you get bored? Did you miss us- I mean me? Was it fun finding food for yourself? Remember we used to do that all the time when we were little?" Like Italy, when he was nervous, Korea gabbled. Japan's irritation only made it worse, as words spilled from Korea's mouth in a pitiful attempt to defuse the tension. He followed Japan down the hallway, still talking. "Wow, you have a really deep tan. Did you get sunburnt a lot? I guess you would, you hardly ever spend any time in the sun at home. Did you get freaked out by all the open space? I remember you used to-"

"Korea, shut up!" Japan massaged his temples. "Honestly, I'm sorely tempted to do to you what I did to China! At least that might keep you quiet."

To Japan's surprise, Korea's mouth snapped shut like a trap. He backed away, wide-eyed. Japan was too stressed to pay much attention.

"Go practice your writing. I'll see if I can make a start on this damned paperwork. Of course they couldn't just get someone else to do it while I was stranded, oh no, that would be too easy ..." Japan grumbled. He shut himself in his room, leaving Korea in the hallway, trembling.

"Oh, c'mon, North, he can't mean ... he did say he smacked China in the face during his escape. He's gotta mean that, right? If he was gonna touch us he'd have done it already, right?" he whispered.

_Maybe. I'm not sure we can take the chance._

"You mean ... time to try getting out again?"

_Yeah. With luck we can catch him off-guard. Let him get absorbed in his work, then we can try to find a way out._


	17. Chapter 17

**Warnings for mental and physical abuse of a teenager.**

**Notes: Queen Min was the last Empress of Korea, succeeded by her son who was overthrown by the Japanese Empire. Traditionally pre-occupation Koreans weren't allowed to cut their hair; unmarried people wore theirs in a single braid, married women in a bun, and married men in a topknot. The government in the 1890s, who were trying to curry favour in Japan, introduced the Short Hair Act, forcing Koreans to cut their hair. It was much more important to them than it probably sounds to Westerners today, and spread anti-Japanese sentiment (as if the Japanese weren't doing that well enough themselves at the time - no offense, guys, everyone's ancestors kinda sucked at some point). I think it works here to have Japan himself cut Korea's braid off as a symbolic thing.**

* * *

Korea pretended to practice his writing and waited for a safe moment, but he hadn't slept properly and his mind wandered. As his eyelids drooped, he found himself thinking back on when Japan had first brought him home. Immediately, they had clashed.

_("NO! NONONO DON'T MAKE ME DO IT!"_

_"For goodness' sake, stop struggling! It's only your hair!"_

_"Yes, it's 'only'_ my_ hair, not_ 'only' _your hair!"_

_"I'm not having my little brother walk around with his hair looking like a woman's! That stupid-looking rat-tail has to come off, right now. No more arguments! Now hold still or my scissors may slip. How'd you like it if I took your ear off as well?")_

Korea had spent the first few days confused and abnormally quiet, unsure what to say. He tried to settle in; he obeyed Japan's instructions, did his chores, tried to learn about Japan's language, history, and culture. Soon, he had decided to try being friendly again.

_("Oof! What the hell are you doing?"_

_"... Good-morning hugs?"_

_"Stop it! It's not dignified."_

_"Aww. Queen Min used to hug me every day!"_

_"Well, I'm not her."_

_"Don't I know it ... So I guess tickle-fights are off-limits too? Even if I let you win?"_

_"You so much as think about trying that and I'll pull your fingers off.")_

Korea was sure Japan was joking, but even then he hadn't dared push his luck. Still, he kept his head up. Surely he'd make some new friends soon.

_("... so I said to him- oh, look! See that boy raking the leaves in Honda-san's yard?"_

_"What? Oooh, I see. Heehee, he's cute! Don't you just want to poke that adorable little curl?"_

_"Ooh, let's go and talk to him! Nobody's around, come on, maybe he's lonely ... Hello, new boy! I'm Reiko and this is Yoko. Why don't you take a little break and introduce yourself?"_

_"Oh, hello, nice ladies! I pleased much meet you. My name Yong-Soo, I do working for Honda-san. You live near?"_

_"Oh."_

_"Oh? What? Wait, where you going?"_

_"I'm sorry, Yoko, I didn't realise he was_ Korean."

_"Ewww."_

_"Hey! Wait, no, please not leave ..."_

_"What are you doing? Get back here right now!"_

_"Big brother! Um, nothing."_

_"You're chasing women down the street? Have you no shame?"_

_"You prefer I chase men?"_

_"Don't talk back! Come inside right now, I think you need a little reminder who the boss is here. Strip and face the wall."_

_"Ooh. Don't you think this is moving a bit fast?"_

_"Hilarious. Just stay still."_

_"W-wait, what are you doing with that stick?"_

_"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you for a first offence ... hey, you come back here right now, you cowardly brat!")_

It wasn't as bad as he'd been expecting, the first time. Rather like getting an injection, the fear was worse than the reality. Pain wasn't a big problem for him, this wasn't anything like as bad as being gutted or beheaded on a battlefield. Of course, he soon realised Japan actually _had_ been going easy on him that time. Japan was small, but deceptively strong.

He'd been rather pleased when Japan announced he was leaving.

_("We're going to the South Seas?"_

_"Correction._ I _am going._ You _are staying with Watanabe-san."_

_"What? No fair!"_

_"Speak properly. And don't worry, your people have plenty of opportunity to prove themselves in this war without you."_

_"... No offence, big brother sir, but that sounds less reassuring than you probably meant. I really think I should come along."_

_"Tough luck. If I can't trust you to stay in the house, I certainly can't trust you with weaponry.")_

Of course Japan never did trust him with anything. Korea had tried to ask him for help, and rapidly been broken of that habit.

_("Aahh-hh ... big brother sir? M-my stomach really hurts."_

_"I told you not to eat so much."_

_"No, not that. Something bad's happening back home. My people are hurt."_

_"Oh, I'm sorry. Storms? Floods? Forest fires?"_

_"No, this one feels like something someone else is doing to us. Them, I mean. Um, you said everything's going smoothly back home- I mean in Korea, right?"_

_"Why?"_

_"Well ... there's this, and I keep having nightmares. Someone's touching me and I can't stop them, or I'm trapped somewhere and hungry and in pain, or last night I had one where my tongue was cut out ... What's happening? Things can't be going so well. Are you ... doing something to them?"_

_"What? How dare you? Are you calling the Emperor himself a liar, boy? Or are you calling_ me _a liar, perhaps?"_

_"What? I-I didn't mean-"_

_"Enough! Strip and put your hands on the wall."_

_"But-"_

_"Hands on the wall. Now!")_

That time had left him bruised from neck to knees, unable to sleep on his back. He'd thought he'd get used to the beatings. Instead it seemed to get worse each time, even the briefer ones.

_(WHACK!_

_"Aah! ... One ... I'm sorry!"_

_"Try not to squeak like that, it's unbecoming."_

_WHACK!_

_"Two! I-I'm sorry!"_

_"Better. So that's one for each word of Korean you've spoken today. Now one for swearing and one for talking back. Yes, I do know what those words mean."_

_WHACK!_

_"Three! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry ..."_

_"Do you need a moment?"_

_"... no."_

_"Good boy."_

_WHACK!_

_"F-four ... I'm sorry ..."_

_"And one to go on."_

_WHACK!_

_"Five!_ I'm sorry! _Aahhh ..."_

_"Sh, sh, it's alright, it's over. No, don't cry now, you were doing so well, don't ruin it. Good boy. You know I don't enjoy this, little brother. I only do this because I love you and I want you to become the best you can be. Understand?"_

_"Mm."_

_"And what do you say?"_

_"... Thank you for my lesson, big brother sir. I love you too."_

_"Good. Now let's get some cold water on that, hm?")_

Ah, yes, being forced to thank his torturer. The worst part about that was that Japan apparently really thought Korea _meant_ it.

He wasn't sure when Balhae had shown up. He'd been so lonely he'd started talking to himself, and one day, someone had replied. He'd been half-awake the first time, unable to sleep, and crying hard, so he was grateful for even an imaginary friendship. He only had vague memories of his big sister Balhae; well, little sister now. He had aged, over the milennium, and she hadn't. She'd been very young when she passed, and he had been tiny. His name had been Hugoguryeo then. She had died, along with their younger brother Hubaekje and mother Silla, when he became United Korea. He still missed his close family, so when Balhae started speaking to him, he was overjoyed. She'd kept him sane and safe, at least up till now. He wasn't sure how much longer she could ...

Korea's eyes opened. The house was silent. Japan was either absorbed in his work or napping. Now or never.


	18. Chapter 18

**Warnings for extreme violence and a lot of blood. The Koreas' escape method is a tad drastic, but they are in too much of a hurry to try many other ways and it's a lot less of a problem than it would be for a human.**

* * *

Japan didn't realise he'd fallen asleep until he was jolted awake by a clattering and a yelp from the kitchen. Korea! What was the little pest doing now? He checked automatically to make sure the keys to the door and to his brother's shackles were still in his pocket. Of course they were. Good.

And what on earth was that smell? Meat? ... Blood.

Japan sent paperwork flying in his rush to the kitchen, picking up the cane on his way just in case, and gasped with disgusted horror as he saw the mess on the floor. Korea was leaning against the table, breathing heavily, his chains lying loose on the floor before him. Japan realised he'd forgotten to lock the kitchen cupboards. He'd checked the doors and windows, but Korea had been so good recently that Japan had become lax with locking away the sharp things. Several broken wooden skewers were scattered around; evidently Korea had tried and failed to pick the lock, and resorted to more extreme measures. The meat cleaver was lying next to the chain, its blade scarlet. Korea was shaking, whimpering, clutching his own severed left foot, holding it to the stump and watching the skin and tendons heal back together. Judging by the flood of red around him, he'd done the right foot the same way.

"What the hell?" Japan shouted, staring, half angry and half horrified. "What do you think you are _doing?"_

Korea looked up, and his expression of pain was replaced by a wicked smile. _"Leaving, brother dear."_

"Wh-what?" Japan raised the cane to protect himself, backing away slightly.

Korea stood up, slowly, carefully, wobbling on his newly-healed legs, giggling eerily. _"I was hoping not to wake you, but I was in a hurry. Doesn't matter. I'm going home and you can't stop me, you piece of_ shit."

His voice was much higher-pitched than usual, feminine in fact, and made him sound like a whiny child; it would have been comical in any other situation, but as it was, Japan was acutely aware of how Korea was much bigger than him, and he wasn't entirely sure how strong the boy was.

"L-look, was this really necessary?" Japan stuttered. "Now now, you're not in trouble, I can see you're upset, just calm down and we'll talk about this over some tea-"

_"Necessary?"_ spat Korea. _"Probably not, but it got the chains off me fast enough, didn't it?"_ He left footprints of blood on the wooden floor as he loomed over his frightened captor.

Japan took another step back. What had got into the boy? Maybe there was a rebellion going on back in Korea, but if so, why hadn't anyone told him about it? "Kor- Yong-Soo! I don't know what's happening, but I'm sorry-"

_"NO YOU AREN'T!"_ Korea lifted Japan off the floor and shook him like a ragdoll. Stronger than Japan had thought, then. Annexed territories tended to be weakened at least a little by their overthrowing, but as with humans, sheer anger could lend them strength. Japan's breath was knocked out as Korea slammed him against the wall. _"I hate you! I hate you so much!"_ Korea screamed, hurling Japan bodily to the floor. Japan tried to scramble away, and Korea kicked him in the side, backing him into a corner. _"We rotted here for thirty years because of you! Thirty years! Thirty years lonely and scared and knowing what you're doing to our people!"_

"Well, that's more than I know," Japan muttered deliriously, and was rewarded by another kick. Korea picked up the fallen cane and rammed the end into Japan's throat, making him cough.

_"And not just us, I know what you did to China!"_

"What? I didn't do anything to him!"

_"LIAR!"_ The cane swung down on his face, again and again. Japan curled up to protect his head, and his attacker started stamping on his ribs. He gasped as he felt one snap, then another. _"Liar! Liar! You raped him and you're a filthy_ LIAR!"

Japan's eyes widened as the words brought back hints of memories. China bloodied and half-dead, China clutching his pipe like a protective talisman, China screaming in his sleep ... Had Japan ... he _hadn't,_ had he? He couldn't remember. He didn't think he had.

Korea stopped kicking him and stood back, breathing heavily. Japan dared to uncurl slightly, and saw the gleam of metal.

"What are you- no, no, don't you dare-"

The cleaver swung down. Japan screamed as it cut into his arm. Tears of rage streamed down Korea's face, and the blade met Japan's flesh again and again. Japan tried to grab it and wrestle it away, succeeding only in cutting his hands. Japan started to feel sick, blood loss combining with the effects of his head injuries. He knew he should try to fight, but he couldn't get up. _Was this how China felt?_ he thought deliriously, and couldn't remember why.

Maybe it was okay that he couldn't fight. If Korea was right, maybe he deserved this.

As he passed out, Japan's blurring vision caught sight of the golden glint in Korea's eyes, and the down-turned curl. His lost sister had had the same eyes.

"... _Balhae?"_

Korea gave him one last kick to the head, and Japan mercifully succumbed to unconsciousness.

Korea stood back and examined the unconscious man. Already his wounds were starting to close up. That was bad. Better make sure he wouldn't wake for a while. It took a lot of hacking and swearing, but soon Japan's head rolled across the floor. Korea wrinkled her nose and went through his pockets; here were the door keys. Perfect. She'd been prepared to break the door, but now she didn't have to attract attention. She quickly stripped, wrinkling her nose as she was forced to confront her body - all lanky muscle and wiry hair, wrong,_ ugly._ No matter, it served its purpose. She wiped the blood off with water from the sink and ran to fetch fresh clothes.

Most of Japan's shoes were too small for her, and she didn't know where he'd put their old ones; they hadn't been allowed outside in years, so they hadn't needed shoes other than cheap, thin slippers. Finally she found an old pair of wooden sandals; her heels hung off the backs, but they were better than nothing. In the closet she found an old, battered hat; she put it on, and tucked their distinctive curl under it, trying to restyle her hair a little with her fingers. She stole Japan's coat, and stuffed the pockets with as much food as she could fit in. She was pleased to find the coat hid her lack of a feminine figure, though she could do nothing about her awkward height.

She locked the front door behind them and, just to make Japan's life a little more difficult, threw the keys down the nearest drain.

The rain was falling heavily by now, so few people were on the streets. She didn't run. She held her head high and walked as if she owned the town, despite her battered body and ill-fitting clothes. Nobody connected the confidently strutting fox-eyed figure with the local semi-recluse's troublemaking servant boy.

_Sis? Was I asleep? What's going on?_

Under her breath, she replied _"We're free, brother dear. We're free."_

North Korea turned their face up to the rain, and laughed.


	19. Chapter 19

**(Disclaimer re a well-deserved telling-off I got for being inappropriately flippant and for which I have apologised; military personnel of any nationality are not automatically assholes. Pretty much every military is likely to have _some_ guys who will be assholes, but most aren't really that bad. These specific characters, however, are. "Chon", if I've been informed correctly, was a Japanese term of abuse directed at Koreans. Also, if you've heard of the place mentioned ****near the end, that will provide a spoiler/warning for what happens in the next chapter. Be careful when Googling, if you don't know. Sweet dreams.)**

* * *

The streets of Shanghai were fairly crowded even late in the evening, full of noise and smoke. Two men, dressed in nondescript long coats and both chewing cigarettes, ambled through the night, one grumbling continuously. A close observer would have seen the bulges of shoulder holsters concealed beneath their coats.

"Can't believe it, the higher-ups must just be trying to keep us occupied or something. Remind me why they said we have to waste our time looking for some government bastard's _chon_ servant boy?" Saito, the complainer, said in an undertone, carefully ensuring he'd be drowned out by the crowd's chatter.

Tanaka flicked his cigarette butt into the gutter. Saito had been more or less talking to himself, but Tanaka answered anyway. "The kid's got important family ties back in Korea, apparently. I thought Honda-san was holding him for ransom or something, but rumour has it he got attached to him. Not like that, he's not doing anything to him, far as I know - man's too damn uptight for that. No, he's sort of adopted him. Don't know why he bothered, the boy's half-crazy by all accounts. Talks to himself, and I talked to one of Honda-san's neighbours once and he swears the kid's hair is haunted."

"What?" Saito said aloud, dropping his own smoke.

"Yeah, I didn't get it either. I think that guy was drunk."

"So why are they telling us to look for him here? Wouldn't he have gone back to Korea if he ever made it out of Honshu?"

"His family apparently has contacts in China, so he might have come here for sanctuary and hoped nobody would look for him here," Tanaka explained. "Boy's smarter than he seems, but then from what I hear I suppose he'd have to be."

"Eh." Saito shrugged. "I doubt he's here, but at least we get some fresh air while we're looking. Or as fresh as it ever gets in the middle of this damn city-"

A cry of "Stop, thief! echoed through the street, and a skinny rag-clad figure in a floppy hat cannoned into the two, scattering rice everywhere as the sack in his arms exploded.

"Ah! Sorry!"

"Hey, what the fuck?"

At this point, Korea's luck gave out, and his hat fell off, exposing his face and his distinctive curl. The two mens' eyes widened as they saw it, instantly recognising him from the photos HQ had handed out. Korea dropped the torn sack, turned on his heel and fled.

"Hey! Stop right there!"

Korea was faster than a normal human, but the crowd blocked his way and he didn't know the city well, and was soon cornered in a dead-end alleyway. He glanced around for an exit, found none, and tried to scramble up the wall as his pursuers rounded the corner. The faint sound of metal against leather announced that Saito was drawing his gun, and Tanaka turned and grabbed his arm.

"No, don't shoot him, you moron, they wanted him alive!" He tried to wrestle the weapon away, but accidentally hit the trigger. The bang was followed by Korea's scream as he fell, blood soaking his shredded shirt. He sprawled on the floor, breathing heavily as the two men ran up to him, unsure what to do. The bullet had struck him directly in the spine, there was no way he'd survive long enough to get him back to the base ...

Even as they watched, the exit wound in his chest healed up, leaving smooth skin. His breaths steadied, cold sweat still rising on his brow.

The two looked at each other, Saito staring, his hand trembling as he kept the gun pointed at the boy. "Okay, that was fucking weird."

"Wait, let me try something." Tanaka drew a knife.

Korea opened his eyes just in time to see the blade come down. He had time to scream once.

Slowly, the wound in the now-unconscious boy's throat sealed up, blood pooling around him. The men watched, faces white and hands shaking.

"Now I see why it was so important we find him," said Saito, looking down at Korea in disgusted fear. "What the hell is he? I figure a demon would put up more of a fight and he bleeds a lot for a ghost."

Tanaka wiped the knife and tapped it on his teeth thoughtfully. "Hmm. You know, I've heard all sorts of funny rumours about Honda-san. I met the guy once, and he looks too damn young to be so high-up. I mean, nepotism or genius are one thing, but he looks like he just turned twenty and he's already working personally with the emperor. Nobody seems to know what he actually does all day, but everyone knows it's something important. And some guy at work said they saw someone who looked exactly like him about ten years ago."

"Might have been his father."

"No, I said _exactly_ - unless his parents had him when they were ten, that's not very likely," Tanaka explained, and poked the unconscious boy. "Think Honda-san did something freaky to this kid? Made him this way?"

"Maybe. Might have always been this way, maybe he was like that when Honda-san found him - maybe that's why he wanted to keep him. Two of a kind? Whatever the hell he is?"

"Guess it doesn't matter." Tanaka idly cut off one of Korea's fingers and watched it seal rapidly back on. "Hey, this is kind of fun."

"Quit it! That's disgusting. You could catch something from him."

"Ah, you wuss." They undid Korea's belt and tied his hands behind his back with it. "Guess we should take him back to the base and tell someone."

"Mm." Saito examined Korea's unmarked skin curiously, and whispered "They did say he's already been missing for two months, right? So they won't miss him for a while yet. And I know a guy who knows a guy in the research business - there's a place up at Pingfang, they'll probably pay better money for this kid than Honda-san will, and if he heals up from everything they can always give him back when they're done ..."

Tanaka hauled Korea up over his shoulder and carried him out with ease; the boy was lightly built and had lost a lot of weight in his wanderings. He carried the limp form out of the alley mouth, Saito following. The crowd must have heard the gunshot, but they guessed the two must be involved with the occupying military, and all took pains not to look in their direction. It was easier that way.


	20. Chapter 20

**WARNING: This chapter is extremely violent and disturbing. First two "entries" are fairly safe, so if you want to read ****those and skip the rest, go ahead. The Unit was a real place and all the things mentioned in here are_ real_ things ****that they _actually did,_ except on people who couldn't grow their parts back, and in fact these are some of ****the _less_ disturbing things they did. Dr Itou actually existed and, sadly, got away with everything - here's hoping ****he came back in his next life as something unpleasant. IIRC most of the victims were actually Chinese, but there were some ****prisoners of war from other Allied countries, some Koreans, and I think some Japanese defectors. I tried to handle it in a ****respectful manner and not get too gross, but you will still be disgusted. I don't recommend Googling if you plan to sleep ****soon, though everyone should by rights know enough that nobody ever tries to pull the same stunt again. I really hope ****writing it in the style of the SCP Foundation doesn't qualify as disrespectful, but since their real files aren't available ****for comparison this is the best I can do, and it works for the creepy theme. Also, a little fucking about with nation ****biology; yes, I did just turn the hair-curls into a serious thing, and it's my headcanon that they have no fingerprints or ****gametes. No DNA either, but DNA wasn't discovered until after WW2.**

* * *

_Extracts from notes in top secret files of Unit 731: Project Halfmoon._

7 May 1944

Subject appears to be human male of Korean descent in mid-adolescence, described by all viewers as unusually attractive, charismatic, or "cute". Distinguishing features include many scars of various types (cuts, burns, bites, etc) and one abnormally thick hair forming a protruding curl which cannot be flattened with pressure. Apparent inherent optical illusion causes impression of small stylised face within loop of curl; all viewers report seeing same illusion, visible from both left and right side-view. "Face" appears to be frowning. Subject arrived at unit after two days travel in shipping crate; apparently suffering no physical ill-effects beyond chapped lips. Subject slightly underweight but not dangerously so. See attached file for stats, photos, account of capture, etc.

Subject able to understand and speak Japanese, but appears confused and uncooperative. Gives name as Im Yong-Soo, claims to be Korean citizen, age fifteen. Demands to know location of "brothers", requests water and permission to go "home", refuses to answer any other questions. Subject is told it may go home when tests are completed, appears relieved and agrees to cooperate with tests.

Subject's pulse, blood pressure, breathing rate, reflexes, and core temperature apparently same as those of normal human. Hair, fingernail, urine, blood, and mouth swab samples show no abnormalities. Hand and foot prints show an apparent lack of friction ridges.

8 May

Subject questioned. Eyes appeared yellow instead of usual brown, antenna twisted into upside-down position. Subject refusedto answer questions or cooperate with tests, responding with aggressive suspicion. Voice higher-pitched than normal, soundslike that of a child.

When re-contained, subject fell asleep for approximately one hour; upon waking, eyes brown and antenna returned to normal position. Seems disoriented, displays amnesia. Talks in unidentified language; no success in translation so far. Subject appears to be holding one-sided conversation with unseen companion. Removed from containment and questioned again, once again uncooperative, answering questions about its nature with "I don't think I can say" or "I don't know how it works". Subject persists in giving name and identity used previously, but refuses to identify any relatives or acquaintances, even its aforementioned "brothers".

Vision and hearing tested, proved to be within normal human parameters. IQ slightly above average, though subject's ability to concentrate appears low. Subject apparently able to see 360 degrees via "face" in curl, though vision less clear.

26 May

Subject restrained on operating table. Expresses confusion, is assured that it may "go home" when tests are complete.

Subject distressed by shaving of hair, reaching hysterics when blade touches curl. Curl bleeds profusely when severed, and subject expresses extreme pain. "Face" disappears and curl falls out of shape. Closer examination proves curl to be antenna consisting of keratin sheath over highly-vascularised and obviously sensitive skin.

Left index finger severed to test alleged properties. Some blood loss, skin heals together and tendons reattach rapidly. Subject expresses pain and distress. Similar result with removal of multiple fingers, hand, forearm, eye, and head.

Subject demonstrates unexpected strength; able to snap leather restraints and kick door from hinges. Seven personnel injured in recapture process. Subject shot through head; skull rematerialises rapidly, subject remains unconscious long enough to be restrained again, this time with steel cuffs.

Internal examination reveals no abnormalities in organ formation. Gastrointestinal contents, tissue samples, and lacrimal fluids show no obvious abnormalities.

Potential for future investigation enormous; subject highly valuable and dangerous, must be handled with extreme care.

3 Jun

Subject proved capable of remaining conscious for several minutes after removal of heart, lungs, liver, or gastrointestinal tract, or near-total exsanguination. Heals near-instantaneously if organ replaced. Removed organs disintegrate after subject's "death" and re-form within subject's body. Internal observation shows vital functions apparently normal.

Antenna fully regrown, "face" now shows expression of sadness. Antenna responds to heat, cold [DATA CORRUPTED] composition normal except subject apparently entirely sterile, cause unknown.

_~Pity. I was hoping to see if we could make more of these things. Oh well, this one should last for a while. -Dr Itou_

Subject is to be gagged during future experiments; distress vocalisations and attempts to engage personnel in conversation are becoming distracting. Personnel are reminded not to form emotional attachment to subject despite its charisma and the abnormally prolonged period of close interaction, or to respond to its efforts to communicate. Subject is not a human being, it is a valuable research tool, and is highly dangerous.

9 Jun

Subject's hands severed and replaced on opposite wrists. Attach as normal, bones reconfigure over the course of two hours to form correct hand orientation. Persona B in control, expresses severe discomfort throughout.

Error in containment permits subject to attempt escape again. More aggressive than previous attempts; two personnel killed and twelve injured during recapture.

Persona A and B both still refuse to discuss subject's origins or abilities even under extreme duress. Options at this point somewhat limited.

23 Jun

Subject capable of withstanding temperatures approximately 20 degrees below freezing with no major ill-effects. Lower temperatures result in symptoms of frostbite and eventual loss of vital signs. Necrotic tissue sloughs off and regenerates upon warming.

Subject placed in heat chamber and temperature [DATA CORRUPTED].

_~How the hell does it regenerate from dehydration? The room's not even humid, where's all the water coming from? -Dr __Itou._

1 Jul

Doctor Ajibana found in subject's containment unit, attempting [DATA CORRUPTED] massive blood loss and several ruptured organs, died en route to surgery. Subject shrieked invective in Korean, Japanese, and unidentified language for over an hour before collapsing from exhaustion; notably, Persona B in control during this, consistent with B's tendency to behave in far more belligerent manner than A. Unnecessary physical contact with subject forbidden for reasons of safety of personnel and prevention of experimental error. Subject now restrained with steel cuffs around the clock.

4 Jul

Both Persona A and B refuse all food and water. Force-feeding considered but deemed unnecessary; subject now under observation to observe any effects of starvation.

10 Jul

Slight error in experimental design. Subject rematerialised, restraints did not. Three personnel killed and seventeen injured during recapture. All future tests involving explosives and incendiaries and/or taking place outdoors cancelled for retooling.

27 Jul

Severed antenna no longer regrowing. When conscious, both Persona A and B appear to have succumbed to melancholia; possible connection. Personnel are reminded not to relax any safety measures; subject is still capable of resistance.

_~Keep it restrained and don't touch it unless you have to. Remember there's not much we can do to punish it effectively if it does make trouble, so it has nothing to lose. I know it seems dimwitted, but it's smart enough to know that. -Dr Itou._


	21. Chapter 21

**Warning for onscreen killing, but this is still less horrible than last chapter. Last chapter I made a mistake - the real person's name was Dr _Ishii,_ not Itou. Mr Itou is a manga artist, and I don't think either of them would be pleased by the comparison ;) Should I go back and edit, or does it not matter?**

* * *

"Japan! You're calling me, mister stickler-for-rules?" Even through the static-riddled phone line, China sounded annoyed.

"I didn't want to, but it's an emergency," Japan replied, trying to hide his discomfort. "Korea's been missing for six months. I've had everyone looking for him - I've searched myself as much as I can - but there's no sign of him, so I can only assume he's outside the empire, and I guessed he'd come to you."

"What makes you think I'd send him back if he did?"

"Because he's supposed to be under my protection and you haven't officially tried to remove him from it! Conquering territories is one thing, but kidnapping them is just low."

"Some protection, if he ran away!"

"Look, will you at least tell me if you see him?" Japan snapped. "I don't want him wandering around on his own, you know what he's like." _And I know what he's become,_ Japan thought to himself, reflexively rubbing his healed-up neck._ I don't know what's up with him, but I have to find him. If he does that again with a human we'll both be in big trouble._

"True. I hope he hasn't happened to someone," China said with a snicker, clearly thinking of the innocent but annoying boy Korea had been. "Fine, I'll have my people keep an eye out."

"Thanks." Japan paused, then added "Er. China. I was just thinking. When we last spoke, did I ... do anything unusual?"

"What? No."

"Oh, well, that's a relief," said Japan happily, and hung up before China could figure out what he meant. Poor Korea hadn't known what he was talking about. Where had he picked up such an absurd idea? Japan would never stoop so low as to commit such an uncivilised act as rape. What was he, a mortal? ... Something about that rang a disturbing bell. What was it? Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He picked up the phone again and dialled the Emperor's private line; better update him on the search.

Meanwhile, China tried to call back, but Japan was already calling someone else. China cursed loudly and threw his own phone across the room, ripping the wire out of the wall. He irritably rubbed at the sore patch on the back of his shoulder; the war had caused him a lot of aches and pains, but this one was persistent despite its small size. Sometimes he'd found little smears of blood on the inside of his shirt. He tried not to worry about it; he'd long since lost track of what was causing what.

* * *

Weeks passed with no news of Korea, and China started to get worried. Nations wandering off on their own wasn't unknown or particularly harmful - he remembered that fucking island - but to disappear completely was odd. The kid could probably take care of himself, but still. Maybe he should go looking. Surely it would only take a few days ...

A few days turned into a few months, as he tried to juggle the search with his involvement in the war effort. Concerned as he was, his own people came first. He made careful inquiries within the country's spy network, cross-referencing it with as much information as the worried Japan had dared to send, but found little concrete information. For the first time in years he managed to contact others within Japan's empire; Singapore and Hong Kong were terribly ill and bedridden under supervision from their Japanese governors, Taiwan was healthy and surprisingly happy but had no information. Korea was rather distinctive-looking, so he was sure the occasional reported sightings were really him, but the trail was long cold; Korea had been in Shanghai in May, and then nothing more. He didn't bother telling Japan. Let the little bastard worry.

In early January, he found a new trail; not for Korea, but for the sore on his shoulder. Pingfang. An area occupied by the Japanese. He'd heard rumours that prisoners were kept in a unit there, but nobody who'd gone to investigate more closely had returned.

Well, if they were being killed, he wouldn't have that problem. And this time the wound was small enough not to pose a hazard in itself, so he should be fine ...

"Boss?" he said, slinging his guns onto his shoulder and hip. "I've got a job to do. If I'm not back in twelve hours, come find me."

Dragon looked up and blinked at China. "Are you sure you want to do this alone, after ... last time?"

China looked down and muttered "I screwed up once. I know what not to do now."

Dragon protested, but did not order China to stop, so China was able to wave away his concern and set out for Pingfang alone. He needed this. He was strong again. He needed to prove he could handle himself alone.

As a nation, he could cover far more ground than a human, and he was led to the area by the slow increase of the stinging pain in his back. It was nothing compared to Nanking, but he still found himself clenching his teeth as the pain spread to his head.

When he finally saw the complex's outer wall, the pain spiked, suddenly, horrifically. All thoughts were driven from his mind as his nerves caught fire. His people were suffering in there, far worse than the simple imprisonment he'd expected.

Clutching his stomach with one hand and his head with the other, China fell to his knees, a thin scream emitting uncontrolled from his mouth. _Fuck it hurts, what the hell is going on? ..._

As he blacked out, he felt blood trickling down from the little wound on his shoulder.

* * *

China regained consciousness to find himself naked on a table, staring at white tiles. The pain in his head had subsided to a dull burn. His arms were pinned above his head, his ankles bound, and a cloth tied into his mouth.

_No. Fuck, no. This can't be happening_ again, _it just can't ..._

He registered the stink of disinfectant. Something clinked beside him. Without turning his head, he glanced to the right. A stocky man in a labcoat was checking the edges on a row of scalpels.

_Ah. Not much better._ China concentrated on his bindings. Sturdy leather, holding his wrists and ankles at the corners of the table, more straps around his neck and hips, buckled tightly enough to dig in uncomfortably.

The doctor ran a scalpel tip along China's hand, the wound healing up as soon as it was made. He scraped the blood onto a microscope slide, muttering to himself. It took China a moment to translate the Japanese; "Yes, looks like we have another one ..."

_Another?_ China put two and two together. _Korea! Shit. He's been here! What did they do? No, doesn't matter right now, first I need to get him out ..._

The doctor continued to talk to himself. "Better call Ishii-san, I wonder what he'll think ..."

While he wasn't as strong as America, in the prime of health China could still punch through a brick wall. Leather straps were no obstacle. His left hand pulled free and tore away the gag, while his right hand shot out and gripped the doctor's throat.

"Yeah, I don't think so." He kicked away his leg bindings and broke the straps around his body, not losing his grip on the human. He switched to speaking in Japanese. "See, this time I _haven't_ been awake and unfed for a week, I _haven't_ been listening to my people die all that time, and I _don't_ have a gaping heart wound. Now tell me where my little brother is and I won't feed you your own guts. My brother? You can't miss him? Looks fifteen-ish, stupid-looking hair, heals up whatever it is you're doing to him?"

The doctor's eyes widened, and China relaxed his grip slightly, allowing the man to speak. "Y-you are Project Halfmoon's brother? Shit, he's mentioned you ..."

"Tell me where the fuck he is!" China snarled, shaking the doctor violently.

"Special cell. This building. Basement."

China looked at the doctor, and wondered if the man actually _liked_ torturing people. He knew from experience that people often simply didn't think about it. It was easy to disassociate oneself. Too easy. Well, he couldn't exactly hold a fucking interview now.

"Thanks, you've been very helpful," he said, and snapped the man's neck.

The doctor's clothes were made for a shorter, bulkier man than China, and his shoes were far too big, but China could hardly walk around the building naked. He took a scalpel. Not much of a weapon, but better than nothing.


	22. Chapter 22

**(Disclaimer just in case: the curl thing does, to my mind, count as a non-penetrative variety of rape. Since Korea here is a panicked, not-particularly-articulate, effectively-fifteen-year-old boy in the year 1944, he probably wouldn't think it should be referred to with that term, even if he feels like it was****. And I feel a little bad about using a silly fandom gag in a serious manner, but hey, what else is fanfic for? I think the whole "repeated horrible deaths" thing is probably upsetting him much more in this case, but I didn't want to come across as belittling actual sexual abuse.)**

* * *

Much as he wanted to slaughter every one of the Japanese doctors and guards, China kept his head down on the walk to the basement. He couldn't attract attention until he'd got his brother. Amazingly, it worked; the few personnel he passed on the way were absorbed in their own business, talking quietly to each other or reading clipboards, and none bothered to examine his face too closely.

The basement room was locked, and the door was clearly designed with a nation's strength in mind. Luckily, it was designed to keep one in, not out. China searched for the alarm, and ripped out the wires, ignoring the electric shock; it stung, but it wasn't enough to kill him, and the burns healed up even as he watched. A few solid kicks ripped out the door hinges, and he was in. The room was dark.

"Korea? _Korea!"_

Korea was dangling from a hook in the ceiling, a thin rope cutting into his neck and heavy cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He wore a thin hospital gown, too short and wide for him, and China had to laugh at the idea of bothering to preserve a dead man's modesty. He was stick-thin, bones protruding, and his skin was grey. He had no visible wounds anywhere but his neck, but to a nation that didn't mean much. His mouth and nose were covered with duct tape; someone had been taking no chances. China jumped up, gripped the rope, locked his ankles around Korea's knees, and swung both their weight on the rope; the hook tore out of the ceiling and dumped them both on the floor. He loosened the noose and ripped off the tape, draped Korea's body over his left arm, and thumped him on the back until he started to cough.

The bruises on Korea's neck flushed darker as his blood started flowing. Tears rose in his eyes, and he sobbed "No, please, not again!"

"No, it's okay, little brother, it's me! It's China!"

"Ch-China?" Korea blinked as China snapped the chain of his handcuffs. "No way, I'm dreaming again ..."

"No, it's me, really!" China looked Korea in the face, tears starting to gather in both their eyes. "It's okay, you're going to be okay. Just sit still for a moment ..." He grabbed the chains around Korea's legs and pulled as hard as he could; the chain was designed to contain a severely weakened nation, and it gave way soon, the end snapping back and cutting China's arm. He barely noticed. He pulled Korea into a rib-crushing hug and kissed his hair.

"Big brother? It's really you?" Korea sobbed harder and hugged back. He didn't attempt to grope China, as he usually did; he wasn't in the mood after his ordeal. China was horrified to see that the Korean Spirit was missing, not merely lying flat as he'd thought but actually severed at the scalp, leaving a tiny scar. "I-I-I missed you s-so bad! I've b-been here so long! I thought we were never gonna get out, I thought I'd never see you again!"

"It's okay, I'm getting you out of here." China held up the rope. "Why did they do this to you?"

"We tried to escape too often. They figured keeping us dead till we were needed was easier than letting us sit around and plan to escape again. Actually it's better for us too. Better than sitting in the dark all the time."

"Wait, I know we have bigger problems, but who's 'we'?"

"Balhae and me. Though she likes to be called North now." Korea tapped the side of his head. "She's here, you know. She helped a lot. We used to take turns. Let the other get a break. I'd have just protected her, but she made me let her take a turn. I can't believe they'd do that to her, she's just a little girl! I don't know if it was being here that changed her or what, but she's so _angry._ She wasn't like this a thousand years ago. I don't blame her. We can hear our people screaming. All the time. I think they have a lot more of yours here, though. Some of America's too. I'm sorry I couldn't help them. I tried."

China let Korea ramble until he ran out of steam and started crying into his shoulder again. China felt his own tears falling. "I'm so sorry this happened! I should have got here sooner ..."

"It's okay, we learned a lot of fun new things. Did you know after a week without food our liver starts to look delicious? Though that might just be North, I can never tell with her." Korea giggled deliriously. "Oh, uh, that thing you said a few years ago? About r-r-... that thing we thought wasn't a big deal and you said it is a big deal? Yeah, I kinda think I get it now."

"Oh, oh please no, they didn't-"

"W-well, they ... used our curl. They didn't believe me when I told them what it did. Touched it till I-I-I ... Well. Nobody actually tried to stick their dicks in us, as far as I know, I think they saved that for the girls upstairs. But ..." He shuddered. "Feels like they might as well have done. They shoved so much else in us. Everywhere. Knives. Tubes. So many fucking _needles."_ The last word trailed off into a sob.

China, lost for words, hugged his brother tighter.

Korea paused, and tilted his head as if listening. "Um, actually North tells me someone tried something when I was out. Said if we behaved he'd give us painkillers, but it didn't go very far before she stopped him. That was the day they started leaving us chained up. She didn't tell me because she didn't want to make me feel worse." He winced. "I did wonder why we didn't feel hungry later that day."

"Okay, let's skip past the part where you explain that and get right to getting us out of here."

"What? We can't just leave! They've got so many of our people here, they're hurting them, yours too!"

"I know, it's breaking my heart to leave them, but our priority is us. We'll be no help if we're captured again." China took off the stolen labcoat and helped Korea into it. Korea shivered and pulled the coat tight around himself; like the hospital gown, it was too short, but at least it was warmer and more concealing.

"So what's the plan?" Korea asked, winding the broken cuff chains around his hands and clenching his fists.

China plucked the scalpel from his trouser pocket, slunk to listen at the door, and turned back to face Korea. "We run for our lives, and we kill anyone who gets in the way."

As China left the room, Korea's curl twisted, and a raspy whisper issued from his mouth. _"Yes, brothers. We'll win our freedom with our chains."_

China, in the hallway, didn't hear it. "Okay, the hallway's clear," he called back. "C'mon."

Korea and Balhae scurried after him.

"And once we're out ..." China pushed his hair back behind his ears, and his face settled into a grim expression. "I'm going to murder our brother."


	23. Chapter 23

Korea tripped on the final stair and stumbled into the wall. "Sorry! I'm not used to running properly."

"Don't bother apologising, just keep moving!" China grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him along, snapping out "Did you see which way they brought you?"

"I don't know! I was stuck in a box when I came here, and every time I was brought outside I was fighting for my life!"

"Don't cry again, we don't have time! Okay, okay, plan B ..." China stopped, turned, took several steps back, and aimed a running jump kick at the wall. The plaster cracked with the first blow, the brickwork showed on the second.

"Uh, I don't think that's an outside wall," Korea said.

"Not my point. The point-" _crack_ "- is the noise."

The fourth and final _crack_ coincided with Korea's scream as three armed men rounded the corner, guns trained on the escapees. China's smile glittered like a knife.

"C'mon, little brother."

They pounced.

The humans didn't run. _Japan would be proud,_ China reflected as a man's arm snapped in his hands. He was always stubborn that way. He took the gun and threw it to Korea, who pumped three bullets into another man's chest. The third got off a lucky shot, which took out China's right eye and blew a hole through the back of his skull.

China looked up from his hand-to-hand opponent, blood dripping onto his chest, and said through his mangled mouth, "Yeah, that's not gonna work." With a shake of his head, the blast wound started to close up. The gunman dropped his weapon and took a stumbling step back, and Korea flew at him. China watched the carnage, vaguely unnerved. He'd seen Korea in battle before, but he usually didn't fly into such a rage or kill so messily. Possibly understandable. He had been hungry.

"Okay, that's enough, we don't have time," he said, and Korea looked up, disappointed. China was still too preoccupied to notice Balhae's eyes. He pressed the surviving - barely - victim face-down against the floor and wrenched his broken arm up. "Now I'm going to let you up, and either you're going to lead us out of this shithole, or I'm going to kill you. Understand?"

"Kill me and you won't get ten yards alive," the man spat, his cheek bruising from where China had slammed his head down.

Balhae kicked him, and swallowed what she had been chewing. _"You'll still be dead."_

The man flinched and pressed himself further down, as if trying to make the floor swallow him, and choked out "Fine."

China held the man's broken arm in an iron grip with his left hand and kept his stolen gun in his right. Korea took the dropped gun and the scalpel from China. The corridors seemed endless.

A tiny sound alerted Korea, and they spun around to see more armed personnel rounding the corner behind them. They knew enough not to simply duck or jump back; instead, they dived down and forwards, moving under the bullet spray, still feeling the projectiles slice ruts in their skin.

"Fuck! Damn, I miss Spirit, it's worse than losing an eye," Korea muttered, emptying his own gun into the nearest opponents.

China realised their guide was dead. With no time to react, he dropped the body and dived straight into the new fight, gun blazing. In seconds both of them were out of bullets, but by now they had come within reach of their opponents. Once again they took them down, took the guns, and ran.

Step by step and turn by turn, the family made their way through the building, healing themselves as they went. It would take its toll on them once they stopped, but for now fear and anger kept them going. They left trails of blood everywhere they went, and nothing could stop them, and as they went they laughed.

Finally they found the outside door, and between them they tore the locks out barehanded, tearing off fingernails and skinning knuckles in the process. The door burst open and they fell out, blinking in the daylight, dried blood - too much of it their own - sticky and cracking on their skin. They fled across the courtyard under fire and managed to break through the gate lock, clasped hands and continued running.

"I can't do this, I don't know where we are!" Korea gasped, trying to keep his grip on China's wrist with a sweating hand.

"I do. Hold on tight ..."

The humans following them saw them run, then a blur, and then nothing.

The nations' special travelling method wasn't quite teleportation, but it was close enough. From their perspective, it felt like taking one enormous leap, mid-run. It could only be done outdoors and un-enclosed, hence why they had been forced to break open the gate first, and performing it while so severely injured would magnify their exhaustion, but they had no choice, and it got them home.

They landed, hands still clasped, in the patch of garden outside the house China shared with Dragon, laughing and crying with relief. No human could follow them here.

China's hands were torn down to the bone in places, nails split and broken off, and he had no energy left to heal. He managed to open the door by gripping the handle between his wrists, his strength sapping enough from the adrenaline plunge that he barely managed it.

Dragon turned and stared in shock at the two near-dead nations bursting into the house, filthy from head to foot and barely holding their bodies in one piece.

"Hey, boss," China said, forcing a grin. "We're gonna have a guest over for lunch."

Both he and the Koreas wobbled their way to the bed and collapsed. Dragon peered into the room, but backed away, knowing they'd talk to him when they were ready.

China fell asleep rapidly. Korea lay quietly in his brother's arms, in that odd empty state that comes after having cried oneself out.

You feeling any better?

"Not much, and I don't think either of us will be for a long time." Korea sighed. "Life isn't very fair, is it?"

After a long silence, North took over their vocal chords, and spoke softly and sadly. _"South, we got out alive. So did China. And now we're here, safe, and we're together. If life is unfair, that's okay for the moment. Today it's unfair in our favour."_


	24. Chapter 24

China woke up with a weight on his torso and almost panicked before realising it was Korea. The boy's arms were wrapped firmly around China's waist, his face nuzzled into his chest, and he'd drooled copiously in his sleep. China poked him in the side, causing him to wake up with a yell.

"What- oh. Sheesh, don't scare me like that!"

"You scared me." China looked at the wetness on his bare chest. "Ewww. Seriously, were you not breastfed as a child?"

"Well, since I was mostly raised by you and I don't know if nations really count as normal mammals, wouldn't it be more worrying if I _was?"_

"Nice to see you didn't lose your sense of humour."

"Heh, takes more than that to keep me down," said Korea, forcing a laugh. Wild giggles bubbled up in its wake, soon turning into uncontrolled sobs. China hugged him and patted his back, waiting for it to pass. Korea's weeping finally died down, and he giggled again. "It's sort of funny. We went to Shanghai because we thought we'd be lost in the crowd. Got caught stealing food, and it wasn't even for us. I was trying to sneak it to some street kids. I figured if we were living off your land I should do your people a favour. I'd always got away with it before. We got caught. They were really nice the first few days, actually, fed us and let us take a bath, all we had to do was fill out some stupid tests. Then they must have run out of things they could do with us feeling normal. Next thing I knew we were strapped on a table and ... and ..."

China let Korea talk, anger bubbling up inside him as he heard each new detail being forced out between sobs. Usually a nation's "deaths" were shrugged off as a human would a splinter, but usually they came one at a time. Korea had died nearly every day for months, and the methods had been horrifying. He talked about the endless surgeries, the shooting and drowning and burning and choking and crushing, the times they'd tried to infect him with one lethal disease or another.

"We didn't tell them anything about us, we didn't let them know what we are, I swear!" he said eventually. China winced; the boy had been through all this, and he was afraid he'd be in trouble for it? "Well. Sometimes the stuff they injected us with sent us kind of trippy. I know I babbled something about us, but they didn't believe me. Didn't stop 'em injecting us, though. Heck, even when they made me ... y'know ... they took another sample with a needle. Maybe they just liked to stab me. I'm glad the, uh, stuff wouldn't be any use. I heard that if it was they were gonna use a girl subject and ... get more of me. Ugh. And later one of them tried to do something to Balhae, but she didn't let him." He squinted upwards, scowling, as if trying to glare at someone inside his head. "If I'd known I'd have done it for you, sis. I really wanted those painkillers ... Yeah, I know, but I'd rather feel like a whore than a _jigsaw puzzle!_ Anything's better than the fucking lab!"

China shuffled away slightly. "Okay, this thing with Balhae is rapidly getting scary. Are you sure you're as well as you could be expected to be?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure we'll both be okay eventually."

China gave up.

Korea's stomach gurgled, reminding China that the poor kid had eaten literally almost nothing for months. Not to mention he was still wearing the bloody labcoat. China decided both problems needed to be rectified immediately, and left Korea to try to find some clothes that fit while he, now in a clean bathrobe, started making soup.

The phone rang, and China picked it up, fully prepared to scream at whoever it was to leave him alone. Before he could, the caller spoke; the very last voice he wanted to hear.

"China? It's Japan, I've found a lead on K-"

"I'm going to ask you one thing. Did you know?"

"... Did I know what?"

"Korea. Did you know what happened to him?"

"Well, I've heard rumours he was last seen in Pingfang. Apparently someone said something about 'sending' him there, but that might be a misunderstanding, I specifically said he was to be brought home. Did you hear about that?"

"Did you know what they were doing there?"

"... A lot of things. It's a big place. Oh, do you mean the lab? Huh, can't get anything past you, can I? But I don't see what an animal-testing lab has to do with looking for Korea."

China was silent.

"If it's that big a problem why didn't you just tell your people about it? I wouldn't be angry, it's just part of the job."

He sounded truthful. Somehow that only made China angrier.

"Japan, do me a favour. Go look up someone called Doctor Ishii. He'll tell you what you need to know. Don't come after us. And I want you to know, if I ever find out you were lying to me just now, I will kill you. I won't ask if you understand me, because I know you do. I mean this. I will bring your final death, I will dye the straits between us with your blood, and I will ensure nothing ever grows or breathes upon your land again."

He hung up. The phone started ringing again almost immediately, and he unplugged it. He growled in the back of his throat and left marks in the table with his newly-regrown fingernails, and the table was in pieces and bloody knucklemarks on the wall before he realised he was now shouting. The echoes of his cursing pounded through his head.

He stopped, breathing heavily, when he realised the front door was open. Shit, he couldn't have scared Korea away!

What was that sound? Was that Korea ... _laughing?_

China looked outside to see his brother dancing and leaping around the patch of grass outside the house, tears of joy streaming down his face, laughing like a child.

"What the-?"

"I'm OUTSIDE! Finally, we're outside again!" Korea whooped. "I can see _sky!_ Isn't it great?"

"Heh, yes, it's great. We're on a mountain, you're going to either freeze or get sunburn, you know that?" China said, allowing himself a smile.

"Who cares? I can isee/i the sun! We haven't so much as seen a window since midsummer!" Korea sprang into a cartwheel, jumped to his feet and twirled around the little garden. "We can move again! We're free, we're finally _free!"_


	25. Chapter 25

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Moshi moshi?"

"Ishii-sensei? My name is Honda Kiku, I ... work with the government." Japan nervously twined the phone cord in his fingers as he spoke.

"Honda-san? Goodness, I've heard of you. I am honoured to speak to you! You've done sterling work in this war."

"Thank you, sir. I have a question."

"I'll do my best to answer, but I'm afraid I can't talk for very long. We have some problems over here."

"Well, there's a certain wanted prisoner we've been searching for for a while. There have been reports that he's been seen in the Pingfang area. We've been telling everyone to keep a lookout for him for some months, but I don't think we sent the information to you. We didn't think he'd have any reason to be near your area." Japan took a deep breath. "He's Korean, quite tall ... looks about fifteen years old, but trust me, he's older and smarter than he looks-"

"Oh, does he go by the name of Im Yong-Soo?"

Japan nearly dropped the phone. "You know of him? Oh, good!" He tried to conceal his relief.

"Yes, actually he is in fact the source of the current problem," replied the doctor, sounding very irritated. "He escaped, and took a lot of personnel and a few of the doors with him."

"Ah. Well, I'm sorry about the losses. Thank you for the effort, I'll make sure you're reimbursed for any damages. How did you capture him?"

"Oh, we didn't. He was caught in Shanghai and sent to us. I do apologise if I overstepped my boundaries, but he was so very useful, and I thought I could send him on to you when we were finished."

A chill ran down Japan's spine. "Finished?" What would an animal-testing laboratory want with a human, or nearly so, prisoner?

"Of course! Don't you know what he can do? We haven't been able to find out how he does it, but he can heal any physical dama-"

"Yes, I know about that. That was partly why it was so urgent to find him. I wish you'd told me about this."

"We did send the information back to Japan, Honda-san. I don't know why you weren't told, if you're working on his case. Sorry, I assumed you'd heard at least something."

Japan had his suspicions. His knuckles whitened around the phone.

Dr Ishii continued, oblivious to Japan's discomfort. "It's a shame we lost him. Saved us a lot of test subjects, though he was rather difficult to handle. We have so much new data from him! Especially in the medical field, he was perfect for testing new surgical techniques. I'm afraid he wasn't a lot of use for the biological warfare testing - we had hopes for vaccines, but we couldn't get his blood samples to stop disintegrating. If only he wasn't sterile, maybe we could be on the way to replacing him by now. Is there any pressing need for him to be shipped back to Japan, or may we take him back if he's recaptured? We have some more ideas we'd like to test."

Japan sat down heavily, his nails cutting into his palms, trying not to crush the phone's earpiece.

"Honda-san? Are you still there? Sorry I rambled a little there, I get a little carried away with my work sometimes."

"Sterile? _Replace him?"_

"Well, we do have a few female subjects free, it seemed a shame not to ensure a steady supply."

Japan's stomach churned. "Okay, Ishii-sensei, I think I may be missing some important information. Would you please start from the beginning? Tell me what you did with him. Everything."

It took quite a long time. When the doctor finished, Japan was staring into space, blood trickling from his palms to the floor where his nails had broken skin. The Bakelite of the phone handset was cracking in his hand, a poor substitute for the doctor's neck. He said nothing.

"Honda-san? Hello? Are you still there?"

Japan hurled the phone across the room, ran to the bathroom, and vomited.


	26. Chapter 26

The worst of the blood had been wiped off, but the smell still hung about them both. China realised Korea's hair was matted and greasy, and now he didn't have better things to worry about he noticed the sour stink of unwashed flesh. "No offence, but we should get you into a bath."

"Oh, yes, please! They stopped letting us bathe when they couldn't restrain us properly for it."

The "us" thing was still a little unnerving, but China decided it was the least of his worries. If it helped Korea, he'd let him go on with it.

Korea filled his own bath, hot enough to steam the room up, but when China turned to leave Korea grabbed his arm. "I-I ... we ... I don't want to be alone. No touching, I promise. Just don't leave us in here. I haven't actually seen another person apart from the doctors in months, I can't face being alone again."

China nodded, looking away politely as Korea dropped his robe and slid into the bath. The boy hugged his knees, for once uncomfortable with his body. Understandable; it was so much thinner and more fragile than usual. He was too tall to have stretched out in the tub, but now he looked tiny.

"I know you said no touching, but shall I help with your hair?" Korea nodded, and China knelt beside the bathtub. "Okay, hold still." He scooped up some water in his hands, wincing slightly at the heat, and splashed it into Korea's hair.

Korea moaned softly and pushed back into China's hands. "S-sorry. I don't mean anything by it, really, not now. I just ... it's been so long since anyone touched us and it didn't hurt. Not just in that place. Japan never did either. Before you came along I got hugged twice in thirty-five years and got a beating for trying to start one."

"Okay, I understand. It's okay." China took Korea's left hand in his own and squeezed it firmly, using his other hand to continue with the hair-washing. "How's this?"

"Great," Korea sighed happily. "Thank you."

Chunks of Korea's hair came out between China's fingers, breaking off at the scalp. China frowned. He really needed to get some food in the kid. He took the shampoo bottle from beside the bath and tried to flick the lid off one-handed. "It's fine, just don't touch my chest for a while. The scar from the- ... from 1938 is still sore."

Korea shifted in the water. "So, um, if you don't mind me asking ... what happened to you?"

"A lot. I don't want to burden you with the details. I don't think it was as bad as what they did to you. At least mine was over sooner," China said sadly, pouring shampoo into Korea's hair.

"I'm sorry," Korea said, staring at his knees.

"You don't have to be, you didn't do it."

"Still. I can't believe Japan would do that. I mean, he's been a dick to me, but I didn't ever think he'd rape anyone-"

China dropped the shampoo bottle and held up his hands. "Whoa! Where did you get the idea Japan did it? His people did it, yes, but he wasn't even there!"

Korea blinked. "He wasn't? But when I asked if he knew anything he hit us, I just assumed ..."

"No, it wasn't him. He was actually pretty horrified when I told him."

"You told him?! When?"

"Soon after it happened. But ... his boss took advantage of how upset he was."

Korea put two and two together, and his eyes widened. "Shit. And all this time I've been blaming him for ... I thought he was going to ... oh, Balhae ..."

"Sh, sh. Don't worry about it now. We can handle everything later when you're feeling a bit better. Okay, little brother?"

Korea sniffled, and murmured "O-okay."

China rubbed foam into Korea's hair, stopping when Korea gasped. China poked at the front of his hair again, and Korea swatted his hand away. "Careful, that kind of hurts."

"Sorry. Hold still ..." China parted Korea's fringe, exposing the tiny stub of a much thicker hair. "Well, here's some good news - Spirit's growing back!"

Korea reached up and touched it. "Hey, it is! Heh. Told you they couldn't keep us down for long!"


	27. Chapter 27

"You lying _bastard!"_

Suzuki Kantaro, the Prime Minister of Japan, stopped abruptly in the doorway of his office, as he found a razor-sharp katana tip at his throat. The hilt of the katana was in the trembling hand of Honda Kiku. Japan's face was white with rage.

"What?"

"You told me the unit at Pingfang was an animal-testing laboratory!"

"Well-"

"If you imply anything about my brothers' people being no better than animals I can't be held responsible for my actions. If they truly were as worthless and uncivilised as my people say, I would have no brothers in the first place."

"That's not what I was going to-" Suzuki had recovered his composure, and sighed. "Look, Honda-san, why don't you put the sword down? We both know you could no more harm me than you could fly without a plane."

Japan's hand shook as he tried to place the blade tip against the minister's neck, and failed. A nation cannot disobey or personally bring harm to their leader, however much they may want to. It had taken Japan a tremendous effort just to swear at the man. He scowled and hurled the blade down in frustration; since the office was carpeted, there wasn't even a satisfying clatter. "Why did you lie, then?"

"Because if we told you the truth you'd get upset," Suzuki said, as if this was all the explanation needed.

"Upset? _Upset?_ They _tortured my baby brother!_ Why, sir, was it necessary to put him through that? Battles are one thing, but even we aren't meant to deal with this! He's barely more than a child in every way that matters, and they killed him every way a man can die. I asked Dr Ishii what they'd done, and he told me every detail as if he'd done nothing wrong!"

"He didn't know it was your brother!"

"So it's okay to do this to a human?"

The Prime Minister struggled to find something to say which would not make the situation worse. "I... You never cared before! Doesn't this happen to your kind all the time?"

"We die all the time, _once_ at a time. Not like this."

"Now, Honda-san, I know it's a shock, but he's alive, isn't he? Your people have centuries to heal, and you've forgiven each other for horrors a human couldn't face before! He'll heal up, and there's no need for you to worry about a few foreign humans. Really, my predecessor said you didn't make this much fuss last time, remember?"

_... last time, remember? ..._

Again, the figurative was interpreted literally. Japan remembered.

Suzuki watched as his nation crumpled, one hand on his head and the other clutching his stomach, white in the face, as if he'd been shot. Instinctively, he took a step towards the door. He knew logically that Japan could not harm him, but still he felt the urge to run. He watched Japan's lips move, forming his brother's names.

Japan picked up his sword, turned to face the window and straightened up, staring out at the city. He said nothing, but Suzuki could hear his breathing hitch. He reached out and let his fingers brush Japan's jacket, then thought better of it and dropped his hand back to his side.

"I'm sorry," he said, awkwardly. "I am sorry, but there's no way we can stop it now-"

"I don't want to stop." Japan clenched his hand around the handle of his katana. "If we try to stop now, my brothers will have suffered for nothing at all. I can't do that to them. Kill their mortals. Kill as many as you have to, just leave enough to keep my brothers alive."

"What?"

"Your kind are the ones who raped my brothers. You forget I am not human. I am closer to my family than I ever was to you. I don't care what happens to the rabble anymore and I doubt they do either. Just leave Yong-Soo and Yao alone. They'll have gone to ground somewhere, don't have anyone go looking. I can find them myself later. If anyone does find them, have them brought here unharmed - if I hear anyone has hurt them again I'll have that man gutted. I swore I wouldn't let it lie, and I'll keep that promise. I need to protect them. If I have to kill every mortal in their lands and bring them to Tokyo in chains to keep them safe, I will. _Nobody_ is going to hurt my family again! _Nobody will touch what is mine!"_

He sighed and looked out of the window, remembering his time with England, back when they were friends, translating each others' literature together. His English pronunciation unsure but the emotion true, he spoke one line.

_"'I am in blood stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er.'"_


	28. Chapter 28

America and Japan faced each other on the rocky beach, guns unsteady in their hands.

Japan's once-white uniform was ruined, torn, every inch black with filth and dried blood. His wounds were healing slowly, the cut over his left eye causing him to squint, his jacket hanging open and exposing a torn and stained undershirt. He was half-starved and exhausted, but determined. He had walked straight out of the prime minister's office, weeks ago, taken up his weapons, and joined the battlefield himself. He had moved from place to place, avoiding capture, fighting with the pure rage of an avenging angel. His country was rapidly heading for defeat, but he refused to give in.

"Please," America said shakily for the third time. "Put the gun down and come with me."

"No," was the uncharacteristically blunt reply, anger simmering through the word.

"I know you've got no reason to trust me-"

"Damn right I have no reason! I should have expected more lies from you, after you've been dropping this bullshit on my cities!" Japan shouted, pulling a crumpled leaflet from his pocket and waving it. America remembered those. His people had worked hard on that message. He was so proud of it.

_We are determined to destroy all of the tools of the military clique which they are using to prolong this useless war. But, unfortunately, bombs have no eyes. So, in accordance with America's humanitarian policies, the American Air Force, which does not wish to injure innocent people, now gives you warning to evacuate the cities named and save your lives ..._

Japan stuffed the leaflet back in his pocket and continued to shout. "I can't believe this! If you're going to spread propaganda, at least make it believable! Why should you care what happens to my people? None of us ever did care before!"

"Well, maybe now's the time we should," America said mildly. "Look, this whole clusterfuck's been going on for too long, there's no need to drag it out! Just surrender and we can salvage something from this mess!"

"Japanese has no word for surrender!"

America blinked. "Yes it does. _Kofuku."_

"I'm speaking figuratively, you moron. And your pronunciation is excremental."

"Look, man, if you don't give up, you'll die."

"Good," Japan spat. "I've disgraced myself enough, perhaps I can reclaim my honour that way."

"Stupidity isn't honour! You can't fix something you did wrong by doing the same thing only bigger!" America took a step forward, tilting his gun downwards but not putting it away. "What about your people? Without you, all of them will suffer much worse than they are already! And I don't want you to die!"

"Why not?"

"Do you want _me_ to die?" America asked, sounding hurt. "We liked each other, once. Remember?"

"That was a long time ago." Japan kept his gun trained on America, though it shook visibly in his hand. "I don't resent you, but I will kill you if you force me. I can't sink lower than I already have."

"Then the only way to go is up."

Japan was silent, and the gun barrel in his hand moved almost imperceptibly downwards. America stepped forward, then again, and put his free hand on the weapon. "Come on, put the gun down and- oof!" His words were cut off by a fist to his jaw, and the butt of the gun slamming into his gut.

"No! I will never surrender, do you hear-" Japan dropped his gun and his hands went to his side. "What the ... ah! Hurts ..."

"Fuck." America's eyes widened. "I guess they must have started already."

Japan tried to speak, but the words came out as a weak cry as the pain intensified. He tore open his jacket and undershirt to see a blossoming burn, reddened skin turning white, then darkening to black and cracking, deeper, wider. His vision started to blur.

The last thing he saw was America leaning over him, saying "Shit, shit, it's okay, hold on, I'll help you, I'm the hero, I can fix this ..." Everything faded until all Japan was aware of was the pain, and then even that slipped away from him.

* * *

**(The quote is an actual extract from leaflets dropped by the US prior to the bombing.)**


End file.
